Balance of Luck
by smurff
Summary: On hiatus. What if Dumbledore had witnessed the change in secret keepers? Sirius raises Harry. MM, Not SiriHarry
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I've had this idea for so long but I had to wait until I was somewhat free so I wouldn't abandon love is just a game haha. I think I'm going to love writing this fic. I kind of had to get this chapter out of the way and it hurts me to write it, but it had to be done. So I'm thinking this chapter might play with your emotions a little but it'll get better, I promise. I hope you like it! Don't forget to review! Too much effort goes into these for you not to review. ;D

Oh yes, and this WILL be M/M!!!! (if you want to know the pairing, just go check out my other fics... if you want to be surprised, that's cool too) If you don't like that, best not even get into this fic okay? We good? Okay then... read on!

OOOoooOOO

Sirius cooed at his best friend's baby, while the James stared at him in shock.

"You want to what?" James asked incredulously.

"I'm just saying, he'll realize it would be me, I'm your best friend. But who in their right mind would pick Pete for this? He won't suspect it and I think it'll make this a whole lot more secure."

James looked from Sirius, who was still bouncing Harry on his leg, to Lily. He laid his forehead against his palms feeling totally helpless. He was, twenty two years old, supposed to be in the prime of life, and here he was, convinced that he should endanger yet another one of his best friends lives.

Since just out of Hogwarts, Voldemort had been chasing after his wife Lily and himself with an unexplained passion. For three years they had moved from place to place, always staying ahead of him. This plan had been fine until the day that Lily had announced she was pregnant. They hadn't been trying, but that wasn't to say it was an unwelcome surprise.

They had had to settle down and find a permanent residence. That's where Godric's Hollow came in. And the need for a secret keeper.

The obvious answer was Sirius Black as they had been friends ever since their first day of Hogwarts. But now, here he was telling them he no longer wanted to be their secret keeper.

Well, that wasn't exactly how he had put it, but it had the same result.

He wanted Peter Pettigrew to be secret keeper; along the reasoning that no one would ever think the Potter's would bestow such a secret on him. James could understand this better than he would admit. He couldn't understand why he hadn't thought of it first.

Even so, he was reluctant to drag another friend into the whole ordeal. Peter was, so far, not terribly involved and however nice it would've been to keep it that way, it didn't seem feasible.

"Lily, what do you think?" He asked, turning to his beautiful wife who seemed in quite the turmoil herself.

"I suppose," she started, then paused. "I suppose it's the best option, isn't it? Nobody would suspect it. All the Order knows it's Sirius, so if there's a traitor, they'll have the wrong information." She dropped her gaze and frowned. "Sirius, I really don't want to entangle someone else in all this. And if we do in fact, do this; everyone will still think you are the secret keeper. That means you're still in danger."

Sirius nodded morosely. "And nobody is more upset about that than me, trust me. But I think this is the best way."

James nodded. "Then it's done." He smiled at his childhood friend. "We'll need to make preparations for the switch. And a witness."

Sirius smiled now, happy things were looking up. "I'll get on it. I assume Dumbledore is as good as any for a witness?"

James rolled his eyes. "Yes. Now leave."

Sirius tutted. "You know, you've been hanging out with Evans too long. You sound just like her."

Everyone smiled as the solemn mood lifted. Even Harry, who had been passed back to Lily giggled, making everyone look at him. Their smiles grew.

As stressful and dangerous as times were, you always had friends.

OOOoooOOO

Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and Albus Dumbledore arrived at Godric's Hollow approximately two hours after Sirius had left.

Peter looked understandably nervous, shifting one foot to the next. It hadn't taken much to get him to agree to the idea. He seemed eager to help. In fact, the first time the Potter's had to choose a secret keeper, he had volunteered, which is the reason they didn't feel nearly so terrible asking him to take over.

Dumbledore, as always, was soft spoken and calm, something that was the envy of everyone else present.

After pleasantries, they were invited into their home and tea was offered around.

"So..." James started but didn't know how to continue. Dumbledore, as always, came to the rescue.

"This procedure requires the consent of all members. It shouldn't take that long, given the hope that everyone does his or her own part."

James let out a breath. The pink elephant in the room had been addressed.

"Well," said Sirius, who had somehow managed, once again, to find and tickle Harry, "No point in wasting precious Harry time, is there?" He was mainly addressing Harry, who was in a fit of giggles and grabbing frantically at the air. Every once in awhile, Sirius would let up to allow the baby to breathe.

Peter twitched. "Yeah, let's do it. I have somewhere to be after this." He said it all as if it were once word and seemed very desperate to get this over and done with.

Lily and James shared a look, wondering what had gotten into their friend. Shaking himself out of it, James turned to Sirius and said, "Siri, put Harry down. Come here, we should start, you're right."

"When haven't I been?" He grumbled, but put the baby down and came over nonetheless.

"Now," Dumbledore said as they all joined hands and stood in a circle, "This is actually faster than the original because the bond has already been established and now needs only be transferred."

They repeated after Dumbledore, trusting him explicitly to give them the right words.

"I, Sirius Black, hereby give up the secret that was mine to keep to Peter Pettigrew."

"I, Peter Pettigrew hereby accept this secret as my own, and will use it only at my discretion."

"We, Lily and James Potter," the two recited together, "hereby give our secret to Peter Pettigrew to use at his discretion, until we so choose to revoke that right, or death to one among us."

The links of all their hands glowed purple, and a tiny string of light purple fire circled everyone for a few seconds. Then everything went still.

"And that's that." Dumbledore sighed and released hands, all the others following. "I hope, for all our sakes, you have made the correct decision here today. Now, if you will excuse me, I believe Arthur Weasley wanted to see me about... what was it? Hammers? Oh well. All the best, until we see each other next."

"Pete, you want to stay for dinner? Lily's made some amazing meatloaf, and watching Harry eat it is like dinner and a show."

"Oh um, no thanks. I have somewhere to be, as I said earlier. Thanks anyway. Bye Lily. Sirius."

"Bye." They all chorused, none of them too upset about the fact that he was leaving, if only because they were more comfortable in just the remaining company.

"Well," said Sirius, "at least that's over with now, right? Nothing left to do for it."

"That's right. Now I just wish James would stop fretting. There's nothing we can do. Every safety precaution has been taken." Lily said, and tossed her hair in James' direction.

He glared at her.

"I am here, you know. It would be so nice to not be talked about as if I wasn't."

"Yes well... one can always dream." Lily smirked at her husband.

James sighed and mock pouted. "Why I love you is a mystery to me."

"Not me." Sirius cut in. James glared, causing Sirius to hold him arms up in defeat. "Just kidding?" James glared harder as Sirius laughed.

"Much as I am enjoying this," Lily raised her eyebrow in sarcasm, "It's time to eat."

She lifted Harry into his seat and put a dish down in front of him.

"Sirius, would you mind..." Lily gestured towards Harry. "I know you love being around him and it would be amazing if you could help out. I'm so dead from today."

Sirius smiled widely. "Course I'll help Lils. Harry's my little puppy, aren't you sweety?" He said the last bit in a baby voice, leaving Lily and James to try to smother their laughs. Who would have guessed Sirius Black, heart breaker of Hogwarts would be a baby fan. No, correct that. A Harry fan.

"Oh shut it. Harry's just so bloody cute. Look at him."

James smiled fondly, looking around at his three favourite people. "I'm aware that my son is cute Siri. Now get to your job and feed him. We aren't giving you free food for nothing, you know."

The animagus hummed his disapproval but started feeding his charge anyway. Something that, as with most things, was more difficult than it sounded. Harry didn't seem to want the meatloaf, even when Sirius disguised the spoon as an aeroplane.

"That doesn't work. That was the first thing we tried." Sirius sneered and pulled his chair around so that he was face to face with Harry.

"Hey there little Prongs. Don't you want to make my life a little bit easier? Huh? Come on. Let's eat the delicious meatloaf that Lils made. Mmm."

Harry opened his mouth, even while the spoon wasn't up to it and waited patiently, smiling.

Sirius smiled right back. "There now. That wasn't too hard." He looked at James. "Was it?"

James spluttered and said, "Get out Padfoot. Now."

Sirius smiled and settled deeper into his seat.

OOOoooOOO

A long evening later, with Harry fast asleep in bed, and the three adults more than a little tired, it was finally time for Sirius to leave.

"Visit again soon, eh Padfoot? We're free next Saturday so you should come by. We're having Remmy over too so it should be good!"

"Definitely. See you soon Lils, Prongs."

"Bye!"

OOOoooOOO

A week later, Friday night, Sirius woke sharply, feeling distinctly as though he was needed somewhere. He got out of bed, and quickly traveled to the floo where he firecalled Albus.

When he got through, his head was in Albus' office where a whole range of people had gathered. He spotted at least half the Order, as well as Aurors. Remus was there and he had red streaks down his face. Dread built up in him and he said, "What's happened?"

Frank Longbottom said, "James and Lily – " But Sirius never heard the rest, he pulled his head from the fire, enlarged his motorbike and took off through the window.

He was the first to arrive.

What he saw brought him to his knees. The Potter's house, where he had been no less than one week ago, was burnt to the ground, and a dark mark above it in the sky. His eyes welled up and the breath was knocked out of him. His chest contracted and he felt it hard to breath.

His mind spun as he tried to get a grip on what had happened. No one could have known where they were. It was a secret location. And that secret was held by their best friend.

Slowly recovering from the shock, though not completely, Sirius felt hate and fury replace the pain that had settled in. He had to find Peter. No, he corrected himself. Pettigrew. That lying, deceitful bastard.

He got shakily to his feet and walked further up to the remains of the house. Surely no one was left alive. Still...

"James! Lily! Harry!" He cried out brokenly, unable to keep his voice from cracking.

Suddenly he heard a cackle that sent a chill up his spine. Pettigrew.

"You won't find them in there!" The rat cried. "My Lord has killed them all, and I will be rewarded so heavily... He will be so pleased."

Sirius thought he was going to be sick. He had never, in all his years as a pureblood, heard a person talk so casually and even gleefully, about murder.

"You're disgusting. You filth, how could you even think of doing this to Prongs! And Lily! You've always been their friend, since you were eleven. Harry was only a baby for fuck's sake. I can't believe you. I can't bloody believe you!" He ended screaming. He couldn't stop hurting and only this seemed to dim the pain.

Pettigrew sneered maliciously. "Do you really think I cared about them? Or you? You've always treated me like something on the underside of your shoe. But now I've got The Dark Lord. He treats me well. And now I'll finally be in his favour, after tonight."

Sirius held back his nausea long enough to hear something. Just a small noise, but enough to make him stop.

Before thinking of doing anything else, he screamed, "Petrificus Totalus!" at Pettigrew and he froze, and dropped where he was. Sirius scrambled to the ruins, even as he heard the dozens of pops signing apparition around him. He could only hope they were for his side.

He had heard a babies cry, and he now frantically dug around in the rubble, hoping against hope that he would find what he was looking for. After minutes of digging, his muscles screaming against him to stop, but he moved a large rock and found underneath, in a little alcove, Harry.

He was dirty – covered in dirt and blood, but beautiful little Harry. He clutched the boy to him, holding him as tightly as he dared. After all, he still wasn't sure where the blood was coming from.

He turned sharply, even violently, as he felt a hand on his shoulder but when he turned around, there was Dumbledore. "Sirius," he asked gently, "are you okay?"

Sirius tightened his grip on the now silent boy. "No," he growled. "Where's Pettigrew?"

"The Aurors have taken him to the Ministry. He will be properly taken care of as a traitor. He is no longer your concern, although I believe you will be honoured for aiding in his capture."

Sirius didn't answer; he just dropped his head next to Harry's and rubbed his cheek against Harry's soft baby hair.

Dumbledore however, wasn't finished. "I am perfectly aware that you are now Harry Potter's legal guardian. It would be prudent to take him to Saint Mungos so that they can make sure he is well. We don't yet know what sort of night he has had. Nor why he did not suffer the same fate as his parents."

Sirius, although distraught, could recognize good advice when it came his way. He apparated directly from Godric's Hollow to the doors of Saint Mungos.

Not too long afterwards, he was leaving with a newly changed and cleaned Harry. They had told him there was nothing they could do. The cut on his forehead had stopped bleeding long before he had been brought in, and there was nothing they could do about further healing it. It was from a powerful curse and would almost certainly scar. He would have it for the rest of his life. They had, however, cleaned him and given him a set of onesies as they figured out for themselves that Sirius didn't look very capable of handling a child.

Having cared for Harry as much as he could have right then, he apparated back to his apartment. He filled the fact that apparating seemed to leave Harry slightly dizzy away for future reference.

He bundled up the blankets from his bed onto the floor, and created a sort of crib shape, leaving the sides supported by extra layers. He looked around his room. He had been living the life of a bachelor and therefore didn't have anything but the barest essentials. That would have to change. He had enough money, after all.

He cuddled up on his empty bed, using the pillow to its maximum potential, and felt a tear drip down his face. All he had left now was Harry and Remus.

OOOoooOOO

Next chapter will be much less angsty. I'm thinking I'm going to do some shots from Harry growing up. Tell me what you think. I already have the plot planned out, but if you have any detail requests, shoot. Oh yeah and... REVIEW!! Very different from my other fics so I'm curious about what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Introducing: The longest chapter I've ever written!! (And I hope they'll keep getting longer. Review to encourage –wink –)

Some people were concerned about the fact that this will make Harry different. To them, I say; of course he'll be different, but not as much as you would think. Hopefully most of you have heard of the Nature vs. Nurture debate (is it genes or environment that establishes what a person will be like), and I am a firm believer in them having an equal role in determining a person's identity. Harry won't be some spoiled asshole, because he's not that kind of person. You will see the changes, but you will still be able to recognize good old Harry in there, trust me.

On another note, the way Sirius is treating Harry is sort of taken from how I treat my nephew, so no bad mouthing it :D. Of course, he will be softer than a father would normally be because a- he has to act as both parent genders, and b- I'm a woman and this is how I treat children haha. Anyway, enough rambling. Read on!

OOOoooOOO

A baby's screams pierced the air, causing Sirius to shoot awake. Was there a baby in his apartment? The child continued to scream as he gathered his bearings.

The Potters... Right.

He turned his head towards the screams. He had taken Harry.

He shook his black hair out of his eyes, and was not surprised when the straight locks fell right back into place.

Resigned to his fate, he went over to the makeshift crib and realized they would need a bigger place. Quite soon, in fact. He picked Harry up, which silenced him immediately.

The child looked up at him curiously, almost waiting for something.

"Harry honey... I don't know what to do with you. What do I do?"

As if in answer, a foul smell drifted up to his nose. "Right okay then, first things first."

As he changed his diaper, he stared at the black rats nest hair, and the green almond shaped eyes. Little Harry was perfect.

Suddenly a knock sounded at his door. He finished and picked Harry up, going to answer it. On the other side was Remus Lupin.

"God Rem," Sirius all but collapsed against him, with Harry in the middle. They pulled each other into a desperate hug as the last two Marauders. Harry seemed to be enjoying the affection.

Minutes later, Sirius sat at the table, attempting to get Harry to eat his applesauce, while reading the Daily Prophet Remus had brought over. Remus, on the other hand, was puttering around the kitchen with the shill of someone who knew it well. He seemed to be whipping together some form of lasagna, but no one could be sure.

Sirius looked up from the newspaper and said, "Hey Rem, listen to this. The Boy Who Lived. Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter, defeated he-who-must-not-be-named late last night. The struggle ended the lives of James and Lily, but this boy will forever be known as our saviour. Godfather Sirius Black has taken custody ... blah blah blah."

He turned to his friend. "Did you know about this? You-Know-Who's gone?! Because of – of, him?" He pointed at Harry, who promptly grabbed his finger and stuck it in his mouth, using it to teethe. Sirius grimaced. "Oh, you'll eat that, but not the applesauce."

"Anyway, can you believe that? He'll be adored. Everyone will know his name."

"Yes, I read the paper on the way over. It's part of the reason I came, to be honest. I think... WE think you should keep Harry out of the public eye."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, suspicious. "Who's 'we'?"

"Dumbledore and I. We talked about it last night, after you left. If you let him be around people who worship him, he won't grow up to be normal. He'll think he can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. That's not the kind of person he should grow up to be. He should be a tribute to Lily and James. A good person."

Sirius threw his arms down in defeat. He rested his head in the space between his arms on the table. "I can't believe their gone."

Remus stopped what he had been doing in the kitchen. He was still, not knowing what he could possibly say. He settled for, "I know, but we have Harry to honour and love."

Sirius looked sombrely from his friend to his Godson. He tapped the latter's cheek to get his attention. "Hey. We are going to love and care for you so much, you what know what hit you, okay little guy? We'll make your Mum and Dad proud."

OOOoooOOO

"Harry James Potter! What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing!?" Sirius, who was more shocked than anything, yelled at his Godson who abruptly stopped finger painting.

The walls.

The four year old looked at him, wide eyed and innocent.

"Don't give me that look, your father and I invented that look!"

"I dint do nething?" Harry asked, innocent look still set to strong.

"But... I... Harry! I just saw you! You know you're not supposed to put things on the walls." Sirius huffed. Sometimes Harry could be difficult. He took his small hands and cast a scourgify spell on every surrounding surface.

"You know what? It's far past your bedtime anyway. Get into your pyjamas please."

Harry stood, swinging his arms and seemingly ignoring his guardian.

"I'm going to count to twenty. If you're not in you jammies by then, I'll have to put them on you myself." Hardly a threat, but Harry always liked doing things for himself. Sirius started counting down and watched as Harry continued to ignore him. He could predict what would happy.

At least once a week, Harry decided to be stubborn, a break from the easy-going child he normally was. This time just happened to be after Sirius had had a particularly long day.

"Two... One. Okay then, have it your way."

He turned, ready to leave the room and had just stepped out when Harry ran to the door and said, "No Pad, start counting again."

Sirius had to suppress a fond smile. He loved the kid.

After he was in his pyjamas, Sirius tucked the blankets in around the little form, kissed him on the cheek, and said, "G'night my little puppy." Hearing the answering goodnight, he got up and went downstairs to continue his conversation with Remus, who had been waiting quite patiently for the bedtime routine to finish up.

No less than five minutes past before a cry of "Siri!" came from the top of the stairs. Sirius excused himself and rushed to where Harry was standing, teary eyed and clutching his blankie to himself. Sirius lowered himself to his knees, so as to appear less threatening.

"Yes sweetie? What's wrong?"

"Are you mad at me?" He sniffled and rubbed his eye with his fist.

"No, of course not. Why would I be mad?"

"Cause..." He sounded reluctant to remind him of the bad deed. "I painted the walls."

"Oh, Harry no. No harm done. Here, let's get you back to bed okay? I'm sure you're just overtired. Besides, won't Prongs get lonely in bed without you?" He said, referring to the stuffed moose (closest thing to a stag he could find at a muggle store) he had given him when he told Harry about his parents.

Harry smiled, dropping his sad expression remarkably fast for someone who was previously so upset.

"Oh yeah. G'night Siri!"

"Goodnight sweetie. Hopefully for good this time, yes?" Harry blushed and giggled, but went back to his room regardless.

Sirius hopped down the stairs and plopped back down in his seat.

"Everything okay?" Remus asked, ever the concerned pseudo parent.

Sirius smiled warmly. "Yeah, just wanted to make sure I wasn't mad. He was painting the walls earlier."

"Ah." Remus nodded teasingly, 'the terrible fours."

"Hey," Sirius said, mock reproachfully, "he's just spirited, like his old Godfather." Remus snorted his amusement. "Call it what you will, he'll land many a detention, I bet you."

Sirius looked affronted. "Course he will! Wouldn't raise him any differently." Moony sat still.

"Thank Merlin you both have me."

Sirius grinned wolfishly and ruffled his friend's hair. "I know. Now what do you say we ask Molly over and go for that dinner you owe me? I paid last time, if you'll remember."

Remus groaned. "How could I forget with you reminding me every other day? Now come on, I, unlike your boyfriend, will not wait forever."

Sirius blushed and mumbled something under his breath. Remus leaned closer. "Padfoot, that was too quiet even for my ears. Speak up."

"I said we broke up."

Remus sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. "Why does that not surprise me? How long were you with this one? A month? That's a bit of a record for you though, isn't it?"

"I was with him about that, yes. And shut up, it's not my fault. They all just end up being... annoying."

"Did this one meet Harry?" Remus asked, dreading the answer.

"No! Remus you know I never introduce them to Harry. He's probably too young to understand that they wouldn't stay forever and I would die if he started to miss one of them."

Merlin, Remus thought, it sounded as though they were speaking of prostitutes, not Sirius' ex-lovers. He'd had far too many, that was for sure.

"You know, perhaps it's time you started calming down. Harry's not going to fall asleep at eight pm forever. He'll realize you have boyfriends and want to meet them."

"Moony, it's not as though I party or anything. I'm just ... trying to enjoy my sexuality and it's not working out so far."

Remus snorted. "You put it so simply, but you've probably broken about twenty seven guy's hearts in your lifetime. Not to mention half a dozen girls who thought they had a chance with you. But I wasn't kidding. Harry will soon be old enough to understand. What are you going to tell him? I don't want him to be a player or anything, and think it's okay."

Sirius frowned. "Well thanks Remus. Nice to know how you feel."

Remus sighed again. "You know I don't mean it like that. It's just that... well you're not in the ideal romantic situation, are you? Tons of prospective relationships, but nothing ever gets anywhere."

"Yes thank you Remus, I'm very much aware of that. Now. Call Molly will you? I still want that supper." He left the room to get his coat. Effective way to end a conversation, Remus supposed.

Sighing, he stuck his head in the fire. "Molly," he said, putting on a falsely bright tone, "you wouldn't happen to be available to babysit, would you?"

OOOoooOOO

Remus laughed as Sirius chased a nearly six year old Harry around the kitchen, trying to catch him for his bath.

"Harry," Sirius started out trying to be reasonable. "You can't go anywhere looking like that. You've been outside all day. Mrs. Weasley won't even let you in the house if you don't bathe, and you don't want to miss your birthday party, do you?" Logic was something that was evidently lost on the five year old.

The chase continued, though this time with a strategy. Sirius angled so that Harry would run right into Remus while looking behind him to make sure his Godfather hadn't yet caught up. Remus grabbed him, lifting him to his chest and holding him sideways as Harry laughed, no longer trying to win.

"Come on kid. As much as I hate to admit it, Padfoot here is right. You look awful." He said, poking Harry's dirt covered nose and eliciting another laugh.

The two brought Harry upstairs and Remus started drawing his bath water, while the other attempted to undress the boy. While it was difficult, it was infinitely easier than dressing him, so he didn't mind. Dunking him into the warm water, the men exited the room, leaving the door open and standing just down the hall in case Harry needed them. They typically gave him about ten minutes of play time before washing but time had to be cut short today as they were already late for his party.

Remus went in to wash his hair while Sirius got out his clothes for his birthday party. Somewhat dressed up but not terribly as they were all friends.

Remus was pondering Harry's odd behaviour as he rubbed the shampoo gently into his scalp. For whatever reason, he loved getting his hair washed, almost purring when he got it done, but he would not let anyone touch his hair otherwise. Many times, Remus had tried to fix his rat's nest of hair, only to have his hand batted away and be scowled at. This meant that while shampooing the child, Remus and Sirius had a secret agreement to work out any knots they could find. They were always surprised at the small number they found, considering what his hair looked like.

Harry finally clean and dry, he ran, towel around him, to his room. And promptly tripped over the towel, sending him flying to the ground. Thankfully for the sake of being even later than they currently were, he landed on his arms, which had been in front of him holding the towel.

Sirius sighed and picked him up from his place on the floor. "Harry, you really have to be more careful. Any more bruises and people will think I'm a bad guardian!"

Harry laughed, as if delighted by the news, but surprisingly, let himself be coerced into dressing.

"Okay now remember Harry. We are going for dinner and dessert, then you can run around for a bit, but you need to come home when it's time. Remmy has to work in the morning and he can't be out late, right?" Sirius gave him a sober look. Every time they visited the Weasley's, Harry never wanted to leave. He had developed quite a close relationship with Ronald and Ginerva, the two youngest.

"Yes Siri, I know." Harry said in exasperation. "Now can we go? We're late!" He said this impatiently, as though he hadn't run away from Sirius only minutes earlier, in an attempt to escape the bath leading to their departure.

As previously mentioned, logic often escaped Harry.

They flooed to the Weasley's, and nearly fell down at the loud and unexpected exclamation of, "Harry Birthday Harry!"

Harry squealed and jumped, shocked.

"Hiya Harry! We were just in the backyard playing 'Aurors and Robbers', you wanna come? Ron eager young voice came from the sea of red, and enticed Harry to the backyard.

With the children gone, the adults were free to speak and socialize as they wished, which meant that Sirius and Remus were immediately accosted by Molly Weasley, inquiring after Harry. Harry's health, Harry's sleeping habits, Harry's eating habits, and the list went on.

"Molly," Sirius interrupted. "We are perfectly capable of taking care of him; you don't need to worry about him. He's fine." He was a little annoyed that he was being questioned as a Godfather. He was excellent, as far as he was concerned. And if ever he needed help, Remus always knew the answer.

"I know, I know," Molly appeared flustered. "I don't mean any disrespect; I'm just saying it must be hard for you. Having to provide for yourself and a child at so young an age. And alone!"

Remus cut in. "He's not alone. I'm there as often as I'm not. I babysit whenever he needs to be somewhere –"

"And it's not like I have problems providing for us." Sirius cut in, referring to his inheritance. He was obviously a little more angry than he had previously thought. "We may be young, but we know what we're doing, thanks very much."

Molly now flushed in embarrassment and mumbled something along the lines of an apology. She turned and sauntered off, for once, properly told off by someone younger than herself.

Remus watched her leave with a tinge of guilt. "Maybe we shouldn't have been so rude..."

"Rude?! Us? You've got to be kidding Remus. No, she deserved everything I just told her and more. I wasn't rude, I was honest."

Remus nodded, conceding the point. She hadn't been the pinnacle of kindness herself, though it was only a momentary lapse. She was a very kind woman, if not a little overprotective of Harry. He was sort of a seventh son to her because he was over so often.

"Shall we go watch Harry? Get our minds off things?" Remus suggested, hoping very much Sirius would be open to the idea. He was in the mood to observe and stay quiet, something he hadn't had the chance to do in a very long time, always having to look after Harry.

"Yeah let's go. I'm a little tired myself." He said, shooting Remus a look that said he knew his underlying intentions of relaxing. And he was fine with them.

They stood together on the deck, watching the many red haired children, along with their own little Harry run around. They were leaning against the bricks of the house, so close that their shoulders would occasionally touch and brush the others.

"So," Remus asked clearing his throat, "how's the love life going? Haven't heard much lately."

"For a good reason. Not much has happened." Sirius ducked his head a little, black hair falling to cover his eyes from view.

"Oh," Remus swallowed, "I'm sorry to hear that."

OOOoooOOO

So okay, we've moved through five years of Harry's life. Next chapter should be him coming up to school age. Probably be about two or three more chapters before we get to the age I want him at, and the story can really start.

Also, sorry there's not much interaction with five/six year old Harry, I don't know much about that age so I didn't want to make him seem to old or too young... The internet is a surprisingly poor source of information on six year olds haha.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I know I haven't updated in awhile, but I wanted to finish off my other fic so I wasn't crazy busy. And no, I don't know why I started this before I finished that one in the first place :D But yes anyway, now that that's out of the way, I'll be attempting to update this every Friday. And when I say Friday, I mean probably early Saturday morning, so expect it then!

And just reminding people, this story is under Harry/Draco for a reason. Yes, there's some Remus/Sirius goodness going on, but we will ultimately focus in on HD with a side pairing of RS. Just to clarify!

OOOoooOOO

"Siri, come on!" Eight year old Harry Potter pleaded.

"Harry," Sirius said, "I think you're too young! It's nothing personal; I just don't want you to get hurt!"

Remus rolled his eyes at the two of them. This had been an ongoing battle since Harry had first seen Sirius riding his broom three years ago. At the time, Harry really had been too young but now, it was bordering on ridiculous that Sirius was protecting him.

"Sirius, can I talk to you privately?" he asked, giving a pointed look at Harry.

They left Harry's bedroom and walked down the hall. "Okay, listen, I know you're just trying to protect him, but he's old enough! You had your first broom when you were six, and he's two years older than that now. He's always been amazing on that toy broomstick and I know you'll insist on going up with him the first couple times anyway, so what are you so worried about?"

"I'm worried about him falling! There's no way to bring people back like there is a way to heal bones. I just... I just want him to be okay."

Remus put a hand on his shoulder. He understood – Harry was as much a son to him as he could possibly be, and he didn't want him to get hurt, but he also wanted him to live a little.

"Just let him. Go on a broom next to him and stay close. I'll be watching from the ground with my wand in case anything goes wrong. If he's anything like James or you, he'll be a complete natural."

"Well," Sirius said, striking a regal pose, "I think that's fairly obvious."

Remus rolled his eyes at his best friend's antics. "Let him do it."

Sirius gave a half smile. "Yeah, okay." He turned to walk back to Harry's room but said, at the last minute, "But if he dies, I'll kill you both."

When they did finally turn around, they saw a grinning Harry standing in the hall. He had, typical of the boy, been eavesdropping.

"I can go?!" he asked excitedly.

Sirius sighed. "Yes, you can go. But I'm coming with you!"

It took half an hour to walk to the field that was had anti-muggle charms, but the moment they were there, Harry started bouncing around, eager to start. Sirius had leant Harry his extra broom and gone through the standard 'up' ceremony that taught respect between the rider and the broom. They were ready to go up.

Harry mounted his broom, Sirius at his side, balancing him, as Remus rolled his eyes. That was becoming a familiar gesture for the werewolf.

"Okay ready? Just tilt the handle up gently and lean back. As soon as you feel it move, right yourself. Got it?" Sirius said, ever the annoyingly protective guardian.

"Merlin Siri!" Harry groaned.

"Harry, language. Now listen to Sirius – he knows what he's doing." said Remus, gently. After all, he knew what it was like to have Sirius protect you and it could grate on the nerves.

And so, as he was told, Harry tilted the handle up and leaned back. What he didn't do, however, was stop. He continued to rise, but it didn't appear as though he had lost control of his broom. At least not from Remus' standpoint. It obviously looked different to Sirius, who hopped onto his own broom and took off after him.

Harry had now turned the broom and was urging it forward. He wasn't going fast enough or high enough to put him in any sort of danger however, so Sirius just followed him.

"Are you doing okay?" Sirius called to him over the wind.

"Yeah, I'm doing fine! This is great!" called Harry, turning back for a second.

As Remus watched from the ground, he found himself deeply impressed with Harry's skill level. For a first time flyer, he was doing amazingly. The only pointer Sirius had needed to give him had been how to lift the broom off the ground. After that, Harry had taken over completely and seemed to be commanding the broom.

It only took a couple minutes before Sirius was certain he wasn't going to fall, and he asked Harry, "Do you want to play around with a Quidditch position? No point in wasting talent right? We could get you on the team second year if we started training!" He sounded so enthused by the concept of playing Quidditch again that Harry relented.

"What position do you think I'd be good at?" Harry asked, already knowing his probable answer.

"Chaser! A Potter couldn't be anything but!"

Harry smiled. He had heard his godfather rant on about his father's ability on the pitch more times than he could count. He was a little weary at not meeting standards, but he figured he still had four years to go until he could try out for the team, so why be worried?

"Of course. Silly of me to ask, really. Do we have a quaffle though? I didn't see you bring one."

"Well no..." Sirius paused in thought, obviously not having realized this. "We can just get Remus to transfigure us something though." And with that, he yelled down to Remus, who picked a blade of grass, pointed his wand and was the next minute, holding a dark red ball.

Harry swooped down to take it from him and Sirius' heart caught in his throat. "Harry, sweet Merlin! Be careful! I don't want to have to peel you off the bloody ground!"

Harry was back up to his height by now and Remus, who had heard the berating, yelled up to the both of them, "And you wonder where he learns the language, Padfoot?!"

Sirius bit his lip. "Hmm, Moony there's got a point. Don't repeat those words, yes?"

Harry just threw him an evil smirk before throwing the quaffle head on. Sirius barely had time to dive to the left to catch it before Harry was gone. He could see him streaking across the sky, apparently one with his broom.

They tossed the ball around a little more before they took pity on Remus, who had brought a book, and was sitting and reading. They headed back to the house, Sirius and Harry a little sweaty but energized all the same.

"Can we go play again soon? I can't wait to tell Ron, he's going to be so jealous, he's only allowed to fly once he's ten. Can you believe that?"

"Harry, I wouldn't brag about being able to fly if he can't yet. That's not very nice." Remus shot a glance at Sirius.

"Oh yeah, right. Not very sportsmanlike of you to do that. Best just mention it." Sirius jumped in as he realized Remus had taken over the parenting for a moment.

"I know! I'm not a prick..." Harry mumbled the last word, completely aware that he wasn't even supposed to know it.

"Sirius! Stop cursing around Harry!"

Once at home, Sirius showered then left the bathroom to Harry, going to the ground floor himself. Remus had taken up his usual post and was cooking dinner. Whenever he came to their house, which happened to be about every other day, he would save Harry from the atrocity that was Sirius' cooking and make a real dinner. Sometimes, even making enough for leftovers the next day.

"Hey listen Moony; is it okay if you babysit tonight?"

"Erm, I don't think I'm busy, why? Where are you going?"

"I'm going out with this guy I met at the café a few days ago. I think he's a muggle though, so I have to be careful. And I may need some help dressing..."

"Oh, you have a date?" Remus asked, keeping a straight face although he felt his teeth grind. "And you need help dressing? Sirius, I think we both know I could only ruin an outfit. I mean, look at me!" He gestured towards his faded jeans and brown t-shirt.

"Hmm," Sirius said, eyes grazing his friend's body. "You know, you really should dress better. A tighter shirt would bring out your..." He cut himself off and cleared his throat. "Anyway, point being, I need a muggle outfit for tonight."

He ended up wearing black dress pants and a Gryffindor red button down shirt.

"You've worn that on dates with wizards before, so why did you need help?!" Remus asked, exasperated. He and Harry were in the middle of eating the spaghetti he had whipped up, sitting at the dining room table.

Sirius shrugged, "Well I didn't know what to wear. Anyway, thanks Moony. See you Harry." He ruffled Harry's hair as he passed. "I'll be home when you wake up."

"As always," muttered Harry under his breath. Sirius didn't hear it, but Remus' heightened hearing caught the words.

After the door had closed, announcing Sirius' departure, Remus looked at his little charge in concern.

"Harry, are you okay with Sirius going out?" He figured the best way to approach it would be head on.

"Course. Why wouldn't I be? It's not like he leaves me alone." Harry tried his best to smile at Remus.

Remus felt his chest contract in pity for Harry and his face heat up in his anger at Sirius. The two sensations together felt odd but he didn't waste the time contemplating it. He wanted to be useful to Harry but he wasn't sure what he could say.

"Would you like it if he stopped going out?" He tested the waters.

"No! That's not really fair, is it? I mean, he can't not have friends because of me..." Harry stared at the table, not meeting Remus' eyes.

The werewolf cringed. Harry still didn't know that Sirius left to meet up with men. He personally believed Sirius was scared of telling Harry he was gay, and that Harry would reject him for it. Remus had tried, on occasion after occasion to tell him that homophobia was something one learned from ones peers and that Harry had never met that kind of close-mindedness so he would be fine with it. Sirius didn't buy it though, and insisted on holding off even though it was a large part of his life.

They hadn't discussed sexuality with Harry in the least and had decided together to wait until he started asking questions. Until then, as far as Harry was concerned, both of them were asexual.

Remus considered the situation they were currently in. It was, he supposed, similar to that of a single child being introduced to a baby sibling. They were upset that the attention had shifted and became either reclusive or destructive.

Remus could only try to prevent Harry from becoming either of those, although it appeared that he was already leaning towards becoming a recluse.

"Harry, you need to understand that Sirius loves you. Just because he goes out with... 'friends', doesn't mean he will pay less attention to you. You'll always be our little Prongs, no matter how many other friends we have."

Harry frowned, "I wasn't worried about that!"

"No?" Remus smiled, knowing he was covering his feelings, as any eight year old tried to do.

Harry shook his head feverishly but looked noticeable happier afterwards. Even the child returning to his unending state of energy could not fix Remus' mood, however. He would need to talk to Sirius about this. Although he had stopped going out so much, he still had the occasional date and it was not healthy for his relationship with Harry to be hiding these things. It was time to either come clean or stop seeing men altogether.

A couple hours later, Harry was safely tucked in bed and Remus sat in front of the fire reading his book from earlier – '1005 Ways to Banish your Banshee, by Portia Romain'. He had to stay until Sirius came home as he couldn't leave Harry all alone, but he didn't know when he would be back.

The return time of his nights out could range from ten that night, to six the next morning. Remus guessed that he usually tried to sneak out before the other person would wake up. At that thought, his tear ducts filled. He could feel the pressure on his face but refused to give in. He stared at the same sentence in his book and tried to focus on reading, but his thoughts kept flying back to Sirius.

Remus had never told him outright that he was gay, so Sirius had never looked at him twice. Of course, Remus thought, that's not the only reason he's never looked at him in that way. He was nowhere near Sirius's normal standard of hot blonde with great body.

Remus looked down at his own body. He could see the mousy hair falling in front of his eyes, his baggy clothes and only slightly muscled body beneath. "It's a wonder he's seen with me." he said aloud, to no one in particular.

Sirius found him the next morning, asleep on the couch in the lounge and covered him gently with a blanket. He bent down to his friend's face, kissed his temple and whispered ever so softly, "Sorry for everything Moony. Again."

OOOoooOOO

I wanted to get this out before I left for the weekend. The next chapter will be up by next Friday, if not before. Next chapter is the sex talk! I'm pretty nervous and giddy to write that, let me tell you.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Alright you guys, I officially have more people getting alerts about the fic than I have reviews. Let's make a new rule. If you add me to your fav or alert list, at least tell me you like it. :D

So I've always wondered something. I read somewhere that 'snuck' was a word that Canadians made up because we, at some point, decided we didn't like the sound of 'sneaked' but that the rest of the world doesn't use it. Now that I've got all you 'who I consider international' people here, is that true? Do you use 'snuck'?

OOOoooOOO

Ten year old Harry watched as Remus and Sirius did the dishes. They were in as good a humour as they would ever be and it seemed that this was the moment Harry had been waiting for. He would ask now.

Harry and his best friend, Ron, had snuck into the living room in the Burrow when Ron's brothers Charlie and Bill had been there, simply intending to eavesdrop, when they had heard more than they understood. Bill had said something about sex being easier when you were out of school and Charlie had mentioned being jealous… Harry shook his head. It was hard to remember what had been said because of his confusion at the time. He had, of course, heard of sex before, but always assumed it was something that happened when you held hands with someone. That theory didn't exactly fit into the conversation they had overheard.

"Hey guys?" he started, but then faltered. He didn't want to seem ignorant. Maybe this was something that everyone just knew.

"Yeah, Harry?" said Sirius, turning from the sink, a dish still in his hand. Harry didn't say anything, but fidgeted.

"What's on your mind?" Remus asked softly, always the gentle one.

Harry decided he would just ask. If he sounded stupid, so be it, at least the anticipation would be over and he could run back and tell Ron.

"What's sex?"

The plate slipped from Sirius' fingers and shattered on the floor.

OOOoooOOO

Harry was sitting in the den where Remus had calming asked him to wait, and he could hear Sirius freaking out to Moony in the hallway.

"Remus, I can't do this, will you please tell him? Oh Merlin, I didn't appreciate his childhood enough. Bloody hormones are going to be the death of me. Remus, please tell him!"

Harry was becoming quite nervous as he listened to this. What was so weird about his question? Perhaps he has gotten himself into something just a little too deep?

There was some quiet mumbling that he couldn't quite make out, and then Remus and Sirius appeared in the doorway, both smiling uncomfortably. Sirius actually looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and Remus was leaning more towards the hilarious laughter side of things.

"You know," said Harry, actually concerned for his godfather's well being, "You really don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Sirius looked hopefully at Remus but the latter passed judgement by glaring back at him. Sirius sighed and pouted.

"Harry, this really is something we should talk about before you go to school. I've," he glared at Remus as though 'I' was really 'Remus', "Been meaning to talk to you about it anyway."

Harry felt a lump in his stomach as nerves got the best of him. Maybe he really didn't want to hear it.

"So…" Sirius sat down across from him on a chair and Remus, next to him on the couch. "Have you heard anything about it?" Padfoot sent him a pleading look.

"No, not really. I mean, Charlie and Bill were talking about it but Ron and I weren't really supposed to be listening…" Harry trailed off, not sure if he would get in trouble.

"Right well, never mind. Erm… I don't quite know how to start this," he looked to Remus for guidance but he just stared back, equally lost.

"Relationships!" Sirius announced. "Right okay, so you know about romantic relationships, yes? Two people who love each other and are married or live together."

Harry nodded.

"Well, sometimes these people want to… express their love. In a physical way."

Harry glanced from Sirius to Remus, not knowing if he was supposed to say anything. Everything that had been said so far had been basic.

"So I guess the question is 'how do they express it'?" Sirius said, obviously trying to stall for time. Remus nudged him with his thigh. He seemed keen to get a move on.

"Okay, might as well hop right in." He was pale. "Men produce this thing called sperm, which women need to have kids… So the challenge is getting the sperm into the woman." Sirius had said this all very slowly as though it was painful to form the words.

Harry's mind started racing. How would you get something inside someone? The most obvious answer seemed to be through their mouth. Where did sperm come from? From the mouth? Maybe sex was kissing and if that was the case, this would be a more embarrassing talk then he had anticipated.

Harry waited on edge as hid godfather collected himself. He was evidently having trouble with this, so Remus jumped in.

"Any questions so far, Harry?"

"Well erm… where does sperm come from?" he asked, almost not wanting the answer but finding the whole thing oddly fascinating. Like seeing someone grow boils all over their face and not being able to look away.

He saw Sirius shudder at his question. That couldn't bode well.

"Sperm comes from the penis." Sirius was pale.

"But isn't that where pee comes from?" Harry asked, confused.

"Well yes, two different things come from there. When a male is aroused, he ejects sperm instead of pee."

"Aroused?"

Sirius swallowed hard. "When a man becomes aroused, his penis gets bigger and harder. It makes it easier to put into the woman."

Harry turned bright red. "What?!"

Sirius cringed and turned to Remus. "I hadn't mentioned that yet, had I?"

"No, you had not. And I think you've gone and scared poor Harry."

They both turned to look at him. He looked back in morbid fascination. "Where in the woman?"

Even Remus blushed this time.

"Do you remember me telling you about vaginas, Harry?" Sirius said, hoping fervently he did.

Harry's mouth fell open. No. Way. He tried to form words, but all that came out what sputtering. Why would somebody do that? Why would a woman let a man do that to them? Why would a man want to? Harry stared at the floor as though it held his escape from this place of awkwardness and silence.

"Do you, erm, have any questions?"

His wide eyes stared at them both in turn.

"Do either of you… you know… do that?" he gestured meaninglessly with a hand.

The two exchanged glances, wondering how to handle the question. Remus, as always, was the one to break the silence.

"We're gay, or homosexual. That means we are attracted to men, not women." Sirius looked at him incredulously and he knew why. Sirius hadn't known that he was anything more than bi, so to tell him in front of Harry was a surprise.

"So wait…" Harry said, oblivious to the silent outrage across from him. "You don't have sex with each other, right? That would be weird and… I don't even know how that would work!"

Sirius opened his mouth to explain but was interrupted by Harry.

"I didn't ask!"

Remus sighed. "No, we don't have sex with each other but actually, I do think it would be a good idea if you knew how the mechanics of a gay relationship worked just so someone doesn't misinform you." At this, both Sirius and Harry groaned.

"So is this my turn then?" he asked Sirius who nodded violently.

"Right so Harry, it's basically the same as heterosexual, that is to say 'straight', sex except that no man on earth has a vagina. I suppose then he would be a woman…" he trailed off then shook his head, trying to get back on track. "So anyway, instead of placing the penis in the vagina, the man places it in the other mans anus. Does that make sense?"

Harry's eyes were bulging out from their sockets. His face had not yet returned to its normal colour from his last shock so nothing changed in that area.

"Oh my… that's disgusting. Why would you do that? Wouldn't that hurt? Why do you like men?"

"Erm," Sirius cut in, speaking for the first time in a long while. "I think that's a conversation for another day. Shall we leave you to absorb what you can?" Everyone in the room understood that he was asking Harry if he could leave.

"Please," said Harry, more than willing to have some alone time.

OOOoooOOO

Ron came over the next day, quite ignorant that he would leave a different person. Harry was quite eager to share everything he had learned, now that he had gotten over the shock. He wanted to see Ron's reaction just to make sure his wasn't unwarranted.

A half hour later, both preteens sat on Harry's bed, Ron in disbelief and Harry in satisfaction. Ron had freaked out just as much as he had earlier and now that he'd had time to mull it over in his head, the shock was mostly gone. The confusion however, remained.

"But why do you think they're gay? That's weird, I mean, what's wrong with girls? I think they're pretty enough."

Ron nodded in agreement. "I don't know why you would like boys instead of girls. I mean," he turned a little pink; "I think some girls are really pretty." Harry nodded so Ron wouldn't feel too shy about admitting that.

"It's not like it's bad though, just weird." Ron said after a moment of thought.

"I suppose."

Silence.

"Hey Ron, why do you think people have sex? I mean, why would someone want to do that?" asked Harry. "It sounds gross, even between a boy and a girl."

"I know! I was just wondering the same thing. I guess you have to if you want to have kids, right? But I don't think Bill wants kids and he was still talking about it. Maybe he does want kids?" he cocked his head as though it had never occurred to him.

"Right… what about gay sex though? You don't get any kids out of that, do you? And it seems kind of grosser to me."

"… I can't believe they told you all that. I'm so happy I haven't gotten the talk yet; I think I'll run away when they try, now that I know what I'm facing. That must have been so awkward…"

Harry laughed. "Yeah we haven't really talked since. At breakfast this morning, there was very little eye contact." He continued to laugh at the absurdity of the memory.

Not much more was said on the topic as they played a game of gobstones to entertain themselves. Harry, as always, won and Ron then insisted they play a game of wizarding chess, which he always won.

As the boys were upstairs playing board games, Remus and Sirius were having quite the conversation.

"I can't believe you never told me you were gay!" Sirius yelled, silencing charm carefully placed around the room.

"You never asked! It's not like I lied to you! Besides, I never dated a girl, really," Remus said defensively.

"Merlin," Sirius pulled at his hair, "How do you manage to keep something like this from me? It's not like there was any reason to think I wouldn't be fine with it! I'M gay, for Merlin's sake."

"Maybe there was no right time to tell you! I didn't want Peter to know because he wouldn't have liked it – do you remember how he acted when he found out you were gay? He wouldn't speak with you for months! Well after he was gone, it just seemed too late, you know? I figure any time after that, you would have reacted exactly the way you're reacting now, and I was scared." Remus had trailed off towards the end so that by the last word, he was just above a whisper.

Sirius didn't say anything. What could he say? He did understand where Remus was coming from, but he was still upset about it.

"Fine but next time you feel like coming out of the closet, tell me before you tell Harry."

Remus smiled, knowing Sirius wasn't mad anymore.

"Deal," he said and shifted towards Sirius. As always, he got the hint and pulled him into a tight hug.

Sirius wasn't sure if Remus felt it, but the hug felt different to him. Maybe it was because he knew he was gay and that had given him a glimmer of hope or maybe something really had changed. They stayed in the hug a little too long before Sirius reluctantly pulled away, disinclined to let go, once he had finally held him.

But Remus would never give him a chance, why would he? He was promiscuous, and even slutty, whereas Remus was obviously waiting for the right man. Remus was much too smart and kind for him. It sometimes even amazed Sirius that he stuck around to be his friend.

OOOoooOOO

Okay so that was another somewhat short chapter but it just felt right to end it there. Now, to reiterate my points at the beginning of the chapter:

Review, you bastards (with all my love :D)

Do anyone but Canadians say 'snuck'?

Oh right, can I add that my own reaction to the sex talk from my parents was to look at my Mum, say (and I quote) 'how could you let him do that to you?' then ignore her for two weeks. I didn't think anything at all of my Dad which, in retrospect, is weird…


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I just realized I never made a disclaimer in the first chapter. Here we go now, then.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, never have and never will. Everything I'm using (even the plot to some extent) belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. But mostly to J. K. Rowling because you know... she wrote it...

Anyway, back to my authors notes. This is officially the last chapter of, what I have been referring to in my mind as the prequel. But it's not really a prequel because that would be a painfully long prequel. Anyway, thanks for the reviews, every one of you earned a place in my heart.

OOOoooOOO

"Sirius, please don't make me go!" Harry whined.

"You know you want to go. You have to uphold the Marauder reputation! What would Hogwarts be if nobody was there to prank?" Sirius said, urging Harry out the door.

They were due at Platform 9 ¾ in ten minutes and Harry showed no signs of letting go to the doorframe, to which he had resolutely latched on. Sirius checked his watch again. It was now eight minutes to eleven and he cursed the fact that he had just 'had' to have anti-apparition wards put in, as that meant he couldn't just grab Harry and go.

Remus couldn't even help him because the full moon had been the night before and he was currently held up in bed at his own house.

He finally managed to pry Harry's fingers off and picked him up, a little heaving involved as he was heavier than Sirius last remembered. "You're going to Hogwarts. Trust me, once you get there, you'll wonder why you ever wanted to stay here. Besides, Ron's probably already on the train, and you haven't seen him in, what, a week?"

"But he's the only person I know!"

"Not true! You know all of his siblings. You have friends in high places! I don't understand though, you were so excited about this when we went to Diagon Alley to get all your stuff."

"But that was before! Ugh, Sirius, you just don't get it."

And it was true, he didn't. He, himself, had been incredibly eager to go to Hogwarts, and that had even been before his family had snubbed him. He had been ready for a change and a challenge. He now hoped Harry wouldn't retreat in on himself at school. He was always so lively at home and with the Weasleys.

Sirius and Harry had finally reached the end of the rather large propriety and Sirius put him down, not wanting to apparated with a person in his arms.

"Accio Harry's things," he calmly flicked his wand and watched, terrified, as his trunk and owl cage came flying at them. They both ducked as the heavy objects flew overhead and landed a few feet from them.

"You should really think these things through, you know..." said Harry walking towards his things.

Sirius mimicked him, causing Harry to laugh. He was used to a sarcastic Sirius and the familiarity was calming him down a bit.

"Alright, hold tight," he said, grabbing onto Harry's trunk as Harry grabbed Hedwig's cage. They were gone the next second.

OOOoooOOO

On the Platform, there were more people than Harry could ever remember seeing in one place. It probably looked like a lot more people because everyone also had their trunks, brooms and cages strewn about the place.

Harry looked at the clock. Two minutes to eleven. He was eager to see Ron again."Siri, I have to go. I'll see you later, okay?"

Sirius started. Harry seemed to have changed his mind about Hogwarts rather quickly but he wasn't going to fight it.

"Here, before you go, I have a present for you." He rummaged around in his pocket and, evidently finding what he was looking for, he pulled something out and pointed his wand at it.

Harry watched as it grew back to its original size. It looked to be a book wrapped in brown paper, but Sirius surely wouldn't have bought him a book as a going away present, would he? He eagerly ripped the paper off the present, and out came two small and square mirrors. They weren't particularly fancy or ornate and Harry found himself turning them around to see if there was something there. There wasn't.

"What are these?"

"Give the other one to someone else, and if you can't figure it out... I don't think you deserve to know," he said, smiling mischievously. Harry smiled back; excited at the knowledge that it was something he would have to figure out.

"Alright kid, you really do have to go now, there's only a minute left. Have a good couple of months and owl lots! I didn't get that owl for nothing, you know." Hedwig gave a hoot, as if to remind them of her presence. "Right. Off you go! I love you."

"Love you too," Harry said, giving him a quick hug before darting off with his trolley.

Sirius watched as a moment later, the train pulled out. He hoped Harry would find good friends and enjoy himself.

OOOoooOOO

Harry jumped onto the train, a random man helping him pull his trunk on as well, just as the train started forward. He was just walking down the aisle, trying to find Ron in one of the compartments, when he bumped into somebody walking the opposite direction.

"Watch where you're going!" the voice said harshly.

"Watch where 'you're' going!" Harry said in return. He wasn't about to let some boy push him around, even if it may have been his fault in the first place.

Harry was just checking Hedwig to make sure the bump hadn't alarmed her too much, when the boy in front of him said, "Harry Potter?"

He jerked his head up to see the boy. He was a platinum blond, with sharp features, even for his age, and startling blue eyes. Harry couldn't look away for a moment before he gathered himself.

"Yes, and you are?" he said, outstretching his hand. Sirius had always taught him to be polite until they gave you a reason not to.

"Draco Malfoy. I didn't know you were coming to Hogwarts?"

He had phrased this like a question, and Harry wasn't sure how to answer. He settled for, "Yeah."

The short response didn't seem to deter Draco, as he continued. "So do you know what house you'll be in? I'm fairly set for Slytherin, myself. Goes back generations."

"I have no idea. My godfather was in Gryffindor and my best friend is really hoping for that too, so maybe I'll be there?" he said, aware of the distaste on Draco's face.

"Oh well... that's a bit unfortunate, if you ask me, but so long as you're not in Hufflepuff, I think we could be friends," he said this as though it was a favour. Harry laughed at his pompous attitude, finding it amusing.

"Sure, Draco. We can be friends, but I've got to find a compartment now, so I guess I'll see you around?"

"Bye, Potter," he said, turning around.

"Call me Harry."

By the time Harry had found Ron's compartment, he was exhausted. Hauling a trunk and an owl cage was much harder than it looked for an eleven year old boy. And it didn't look very easy.

Once his things were in the slot above the door, he slipped into the small room.

Ron wasn't alone; across from him was a bushy haired girl who was pointing her wand at Maximus, Ron's rat and speaking clearly in Latin. Harry and Ron, both of whom had grown up around adults casting spells all the time, had no idea what she was doing.

Maximus started gently changing colour, going from his usual dirt brown to a bright yellow colour.

Both boys stared at the rat, and then at the girl.

She shrugged. "You tried to turn it yellow, didn't you? I was just showing you how." Harry had only ever seen Sirius hold his nose so high in the air, and then only when he was imitating someone he didn't like.

It seemed Ron had suddenly realized that Harry didn't know the girl, and quickly introduced them. "Harry, this is Hermione Granger and this is Harry Potter," he said, nodding back towards Harry while speaking to who Harry now knew as Hermione.

"Hi," he said, extending a hand for the second time that day.

She, unlike Draco, didn't take it, but gaped at him.

"You're Harry Potter?! The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter?"

"Well, most people don't use my 'full title'," he said, bending his fingers in quotation marks, "But yes."

Hermione had the graces to blush, but still, Harry noticed, stared at his scar.

He didn't get many people coming up to him anymore. According to Sirius, they had been crazy about him for awhile but then backed off when they had noticed nothing interesting was happening to him. He was glad for it. He couldn't imagine if everyone reacted the way Hermione had when they met him.

"Sorry... It's just that I've read about you and it's pretty rare to meet somebody that's in all these books. I got excited!" Hermione said, still gushing a little bit.

"Er, Hermione?" Ron said, "Weren't you looking for a toad or something?"

She gasped, obviously realizing she had forgotten about it. "Shoot! Thank you, Ronald. Nice to meet you both!"

They were left alone in the compartment and the energy level dropped drastically.

"Can you believe her? She's a little ball of liveliness, with wild hair. I could never keep up with her." Ron said, dazedly. Harry laughed at the look on his face.

"Anyway," Harry started, wanting to catch up with his friend. "How was Bill's visit?"

OOOoooOOO

The train ride had taken longer than either of them had expected, but they had finally arrived. A very large man named Hagrid had let them to boats – they shared with Hermione – and they were currently waiting outside the Great Hall, dripping wet, and scared for the sorting.

Harry had squashed Ron's idea about wrestling a troll, as Sirius had told him it was just a hat, but friendships had been forged between many people on the train and nobody wanted to see their friend get sorted into a different house than themselves. Then, of course, there was the added pressure of pleasing the family.

Harry didn't have to worry about this last as Sirius had told him he wouldn't care what house he got himself into. He knew all about Sirius' problems with his family and how they were based on the fact that he never got into Slytherin and Sirius was obviously trying to prevent Harry from being worried about this.

"Hey, Harry," the boy in question turned to see who had called him. It was Draco, the boy from the train.

"Hey, how was the train ride?" Harry asked, not noticing Ron's jaw dropping next to him.

"Boring and unnecessary. Yours?" he drawled.

Harry laughed at this. "About the same, now that I think about it. Are you nervous for the sorting at all?"

"No, I'm in Slytherin. I suppose you are though? Afraid you'll be in Gryffindor?" Draco was smirking as he took an obvious jab.

He rolled his eyes. "Mhm, terrified. We'll just have to see how it goes. I don't entirely care where I go, but Gryffindor would be good."

"Trust me, if the hat tries to put you in Hufflepuff, fight to the death. You don't want to be put in with that bunch of losers. By the way, who's your friend here?" he nodded to Ron. "Looks like a Weasley to me," he sneered.

Harry frowned as Ron growled to his left. "Hey, watch it. He's my friend," he said to Draco.

"Whatever," Draco said, "Just don't expect me to be his friend."

"Because I'm jumping to be yours," Ron mumbled to the side.

Harry sighed. Well wasn't that lovely? His only two friends hated each other and would most probably, end up in opposite houses.

It was as he dwelled on this, that the door to the Hall opened and Professor McGonagall appeared, leading them in.

They were lined up at the front and a stool was placed in the middle of them, where every person in the hall could watch. How... daunting, Harry decided was the right word. He watched as the people he knew got called up. First there was Hermione, who went into Gryffindor. Ron sighed when this happened, because he was almost surely going into that house and now he would have to put up with the never ending energizer.

Draco was the next person he knew called up. Harry could have sworn that the hat never touched his head, but it must have because it screamed, "Slytherin!" a second later. Draco hopped off the bench, giving Harry a small, barely noticeable smile, before heading off to his house table.

He wasn't paying attention as more names were called, and before he knew it, "Potter, Harry!"

He swallowed hard. He wasn't ready for this. How did one work the hat? What if he didn't know what to do?

Warily, Harry sat down on the stool and everything went dark as he felt a hat drop before his eyes.

"Oh, a Potter," said a voice in his ear, making him jump. "But you weren't raised Potter, were you?" Hearing this made the image of Sirius jump into his mind. Apparently the hat could read his mind because the next moment, "Raised a Black, then? No wonder... no wonder..." it trailed off.

No wonder what? Harry thought, not expecting an answer, but an answer was what he got.

"No wonder you would fit so well into Gryffindor and Slytherin. Hmm, where to put you? I think I know, but don't assume your other side is gone. Don't forget your Slytherin.""Gryffindor!"

Harry hopped off the stool, relieved to not be the center of focus any longer. He made his way, through the few first years that were left, and took a seat at the Gryffindor table. He watched, impatiently waiting for Ron's name to be called. Now that he had been sorted, all of his previous nervousness had melted away.

"Weasley, Ronald!" Harry held his breath, knowing Ron probably was too, but needn't have. As with Draco's sorting, it took barely a graze of his head before the hat yelled "Gryffindor!"

All of Ron's brothers stood up and cheered along with the house, happy that their brother had done well.

Ron was one of the last to be sorted, and pretty soon, Dumbledore was saying something about 'forbidden this' and 'certain detention that'. Harry didn't bother paying much attention as he'd already heard the talk from Sirius. He had, however, taken what Harry guessed to be a very different approach to the topic, basically encouraging Harry to explore Hogwarts, though carefully. Never let it be said that Sirius Black was not an overprotective godfather.

The food appeared on the table. More food than Harry had ever seen in his life, which was saying something because he had been there for Molly's cooking at Weasley family get-togethers.

Harry met Draco's eyes across the hall and they both smiled. Maybe, Harry considered, Hogwarts wouldn't be too bad.

OOOoooOOO

I actually really like how that chapter ended...

Next chapter is fast forwarding to Harry's sixth year. Sirius and Remus are on hold till then because I can't add in extra chapters in between, for reasons that are completely figured out in my head. There will be an author's note explaining things that I skipped at the beginning of next chapter, so make sure you read that.

Right, and if anybody wants email updates, tell me and leave your email address!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Okay, this is IMPORTANT! READ BELOW.

Nothing Voldy related has happened since Harry was one. He's not back in this world, okay? He will be a blip in the plot, but he's not going to be a main plot point. I know it's not very classy of me to put this in an author's note, but I really didn't want to go through all five years leading up to now just to show you that. Oh yeah, and I think that Katie Bell is only a year ahead of Harry. Correct me if I'm wrong.

Guys, I just had to have my dog put down and I'm absolutely devastated, so give me love!

OOOoooOOO

December, Sixth Year

Harry leaned back in his seat, completely and utterly bored with the lesson. McGonagall had been going on and on about animal transfiguration theory and, looking around, it seemed everybody was on the verge of sleep. If not already in the realm of.

His only consolation was that he was sitting behind Draco and Harry kept flicking the tip of his quill through his white-blond hair and over his neck. Draco, who was one of the few alert pupils in the room – Hermione being the other – was twitching with every flick. Every one in awhile, he would turn around or bat at his neck, as he obviously thought some sort of bug was bothering him. At these moments, Harry would pull away sharply and give up for a minute or two.

On one of these times, he pulled back a little too jerkily and knocked Ron, who was sleeping beside him, awake.

"Mofleat!" Ron yelled, sleep thickening his voice. Those who were awake snickered at him while Professor McGonagall stopped midway through a sentence.

"Thank you, Mister Weasley, for that insight. Ten points from Gryffindor for interrupting me, and another fifteen for falling asleep in class. Now, as I was saying, the Tolero Nutrimens spell..." Harry stopped listening again.

"Harry," Ron hissed, "What the hell? I was sleeping, you know! Everyone was happy!"

"Sorry!" Harry whispered back, trying to avoid McGonagall's sweeping eyes. "Draco keeps turning back and I don't want him to see that it's me."

Ron groaned. Harry was always trying to bother Draco, and the other way around. It usually worked like a charm, too. They were experts at pushing each other's buttons.

"What are you doing to him?"

"Flicking him."

He snorted. "Alright, let's see then."

Harry smiled back and leaned forward in his seat once more. He reached out, quill poised, only to have his hand slapped away by Hermione. She was sitting next to Draco and had turned around to chastise them for talking in class, just in time to see Harry about to tickle his neck.

"Good Lord Harry, I mean really," Hermione said, frowning. She didn't like it when Harry and Draco aggravated one another.

It was at this moment that McGonagall finished her lecture and class ended. Everyone stood up, gathered their things, and headed towards the door. Harry told Hermione and Ron that he would be right back and hurried after the blond. Draco was leaving with Pansy and Blaise, some of his friends in Slytherin House, when Harry caught up to him.

"Hey, you," Harry said, in the usual greeting.

"Hey, what's up?" Draco asked, gesturing to his friends that they could leave without him.

Harry stretched and yawned, "Nothing... although I wanted to kill myself during that lecture. The only reason I was awake was because I was tickling you... you poor thing," he added with a smile.

"You arse-wipe," he sneered.

Harry smiled widely back at him. "But you love me anyway."

"But I love you anyway," Draco repeated, bringing his hand up to Harry's hair and messing it up even more than it had already been. "Why? I have no idea."

Harry distanced himself from the offending hand, but kept smiling anyway. "Anyway, are you free tonight? I don't have anything to do and Hermione is still on Ron's case about the Potions essay."

"Yes, I think I'm free. Well, as long as Sprout doesn't assign anything next period. You've got Divination next, right?"

"Yep. I'll talk to you after class but wait for me is I'm not there," he said, referring to the mirrors they shared.

They both rushed off their separate ways to catch up with their friends. When Harry finally reached Ron, they were just about to climb up the ladder to the Divination room.

"Hey, where'd you run off to?"

"I told you where I was going!" Harry said, rolling his eyes.

Ron just frowned in return, trying to remember while he climbed. After a moment, it became clear that Ron wasn't going to remember.

"I was talking to Draco, Ron. Merlin, pay more attention!"

"Sorry mate, it's just that I was talking to Mione and, well... you know," he stumbled awkwardly through the sentence. Yes, Harry knew. It was, in fact, common knowledge that Ron liked Hermione. The one person who didn't know this was of course, Hermione. For such a smart girl, Harry considered, she could be astonishingly blind.

"No, that's fine. We were just planning to do something tonight. You're busy with Hermione though, aren't you?"

Ron smiled, despite himself. "I am, sorry. Tell him I say hi though. Do you know what you're going to do?"

"I'm mirroring him later, but I'm thinking something along the lines of stalking Filch. That man could stand to be taken down a notch or two."

"Or fourteen," Ron said, probably still bitter that Filch had assigned him a detention two nights ago.

The Divination lesson passed as it normally did, with Trelawney making not so idle remarks about his upcoming death. The first time this had happened, their entire class had been frightened but by now, the lesson just didn't feel complete without it. He and Ron had actually had quite the fun time coming up with new and outrageous ways for him to die.

After lessons for the day were over, Harry hurried to his dorm room and grabbed his mirror from underneath his pillow. Draco was obviously already there and he was frowning.

"What took you so long?"

"Well Divination is further from my dorm than Herbology is from yours!" said Harry, indignantly.

"Mhm, of course. You're always right, aren't you?" Draco rolled his eyes.

"Well now that you point it out, yes, I am."

"Glad you could get your fat head out your arse long enough to realize that. Anyway," Draco said pointedly changing the subject, "What do you want to do tonight?"

"I don't have a fat head. Actually, I was thinking just the other day, how utterly attractive the shape of my head was," Harry said, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

"Harry, focus. What are we doing tonight? I came up with the idea last time; I think it's your turn."

"What did we do last time? I'm pretty sure it was my idea that time too. Not that I'm complaining. If I have to double my wit to make up the difference of yours, so be it."

"Merlin! What do I have to do to get you to answer a simple question?!"

"All you had to do was ask! God Draco, calm down," he smirked, knowing how impatient the blond was and using it to bother him. "I was thinking we could play with Filch." A wicked smile crossed his face. "I'm still angry with that prick for giving me detention. It wasn't even my fault."

Draco raised an eyebrow through the mirror. "It wasn't your fault that you were snogging Bell after curfew?"

"I wasn't snogging her!" Harry said in frustration. "Everyone assumes I'm the biggest slut, but I swear to Merlin, we were just talking."

Draco looked at him dubiously. "You were just talking, in the Astronomy Tower, with one of the prettiest girls in the school, after hours? You don't actually expect me to believe that?"

"I wish you would, but I know you won't, so never mind."

"Alright then, who've you got your eye on now? I don't think you've really liked anyone since Chang last year... Merlin, can that be right?" Draco said incredulously.

Harry frowned. That seemed a little odd. He hadn't really thought about it before, but he'd only ever liked Cho. Well, and Ginny for a brief period but that was quickly put to rest after he had kissed her in fourth year. He shuddered. Ron hadn't been too happy and to tell the truth, neither had he.

"I suppose not... That is a bit weird, but who would I like? No one's really attractive, you know?" Harry knew he was asking the wrong person. Draco was notorious for dating someone different every week and leaving a trail of heartbroken girls in his wake but that wasn't entirely surprising considering his looks and charisma.

So many girls had fallen for the angelic hair that swept across his striking blue eyes, reaching down to about the middle of his ears, and his statue-worthy body. Harry had showered with him on occasion, like after a seekers game, and could vouch personally for his physique – though he wouldn't, because that would obviously be weird. Not that he had a problem with homosexuality.

Having grown up with Sirius and Remus, he was not a typical teenage boy in that he did not look down on, or make fun of gays. So many boys in his year, thankfully none of his friends were included in this, would lash out at a newly emerged from the closet boy. Not girl because that was considered to be attractive... Something Harry was sure he would never understand.

Steering his mind back to the conversation at hand, he heard Draco say, "Well, you really have to lower your standards. Why do you think I switch so often?" he said laughing.

"That's not very nice," said Harry, drawing his eyebrows together.

Draco sighed and looked heavenwards. Harry had long ago learned that this was a reaction to him being, what Draco considered, 'too Gryffindor'.

"Whatever. Look, when are you coming to get me tonight?" Draco asked. Harry was always the one to go get Draco from the Slytherin Common Room because he had an invisibility cloak.

"Ten, exactly. Don't leave me waiting again because I will leave without you this time."

"I told you, I was held up," he winked.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to quell the laugh that was coming, but failed. When Draco got talking about his rendezvous', he never outright said anything, but insinuated everything. It could be quite filthy sometimes if Harry didn't catch on quickly enough.

"Just be there this time."

"Yes, Harry."

They both put down their mirrors, effectively ending the conversation and link. Harry shook his head. Draco could be very odd sometimes, but that was one of the reasons he liked him so much. Ron always told him he didn't know what he would do if Harry didn't also have Draco as a friend, because he couldn't cope with the more Slytherin side of him.

This thought reminded him of Sirius – because of Sirius' great relief that he hadn't ended up in Slytherin – and Harry realized how long it had been since he had written.

They had kept up a pattern of writing each other at least twice a month and were both quite proud of it. It had been three weeks since Harry's last letter and, looking at the clock, he had enough time to write one now. He pulled out parchment and a quill from his bedside table and lay down on his bed, wondering what to write.

Siri,

Haven't written in awhile so I thought it was about time. Nothing's interesting here, what can I say? It's just like normal Hogwarts. Tonight I think Draco and I are going to follow Filch around and hit him with a couple things, just to pass the time. Apparently, this is what we do when we're bored.

Have you seen Remus lately? Last time he wrote to me, he sounded pretty pissed off at you... Was I supposed to tell you that? Oh well, too late now. Isn't the full moon soon, though? You'd better go see him, I swear to Merlin, Sirius, don't be an arse, that's not the way to win anybody over.

Christmas in two weeks! I'm still invited home, aren't I, after calling you an arse? You'd better hope so, because I'm coming anyway.

Much love (as long as you make nice with Rem),

Harry

He tied the pathetically short letter up and promised himself he would send it at breakfast the next morning, when he saw Hedwig.

Dinner passed, and then the evening, and before Harry knew it, it was time to get Draco. Waving goodbye to Ron and Hermione, he slipped the Invisibility cloak on and exited the Common Room. The occupants of said Common Room were so used to this by now that nobody blinked as the portrait opened up all by itself.

With the help of the Marauders Map – that he had acquired from the twins in his third year – he avoided bumping into any teachers who were patrolling the hallways and soon found himself in front of the Slytherin Common Room. Draco was standing there, as promised.

Harry snuck up on him, trying not to breathe too loudly and alert him of his presence, and leaned in right beside his ear.

"Hi," he said at normal volume. Draco jumped but quickly composed himself and groped around, trying to find Harry.

He ripped the cloak off, before settling it back down, so that it covered both of them.

"Prick," Draco said, once safely concealed.

"Course," Harry replied, acknowledging his attitude. "Let's go." Harry pulled out the Map and scanned for Filch.

The two boys started towards the fourth floor, walking close and having a whispered conversation. It was a night like any other.

OOOoooOOO

"Sirius! You have mail, wake the hell up! Harry sent you a letter," Remus shook Sirius awake, blushing a little as he saw that Sirius was naked from at least the waist up. The blanket covered his lower bit, thank Merlin.

"Hrr?" Sirius questioned, still mostly asleep.

"Yes, Harry. He sent you a letter which, if you don't wake up this instant, I'm going to read in place of you," Remus gave an empty threat, though it did seem to do the trick. Sirius sat straight up in bed.

"No! Wait, don't read it!" Panic clouded his sleep-laden eyes, disturbing Remus. He hadn't been expecting a reaction so strong, if a reaction at all.

"Why?" Moony narrowed his eyes. "What don't you want me to know?"

Sirius swallowed and smiled weakly. "What are you talking about? Nothing. Just give me the letter, please?" He pouted his bottom lip and widened his eyes. One look that even Remus couldn't win against.

Handing over the letter, Remus said, "I'm going to make breakfast. Meet me down there but you should probably shower first..." Without another word, he left the room leaving Sirius with the letter.

The animagus breathed a sigh of relief. Lately, in his letters to Harry, he had mentioned his attraction to Remus. Not in so many words, of course, but Harry being Harry, had caught it right away and was now plotting deviously to set them up. Something Sirius had very mixed feelings about.

On the one hand, he was terrified to let Remus know something was going on, or have anyone else know of his attraction for that matter, but on the other... It would be lovely to have this secret that he had kept these many years, off his chest. And of course, he was glad Harry didn't seem to have a problem with it. Even more frightening than anticipating Remus' reaction had been thinking about Harry's.

Sirius hadn't known how Harry would feel, knowing one godfather liked the other but he had actually seemed to be happy for him. Granted, they hadn't actually spoken about it in person and it would be easier to interpret his feelings face to face. That conversation would have to wait for a couple weeks until Christmas.

Turning his attention back to the letter that had caused the train of thought, Sirius broke the seal and unwound it.

After reading it, he was glad Remus hadn't made good on his threat. There was only one mention of his feelings, but that would be enough to start the werewolf's suspicions. But wait. He read it over again. Remus was angry with him?

He marched downstairs to where he was sure Remus was cooking, not entirely aware that he was wearing only boxer-briefs, or even still carrying the letter, and squared his shoulders, hands on his hips.

"Why are you mad at me?" he demanded like a four-year-old as he dropped the letter on the counter.

"What are you –?" said Remus, before catching sight of Sirius and trailing off. He cleared his throat before he could continue. "What are you talking about?"

Not noticing the lapse in Remus' concentration, Sirius continued on.

"Harry says you're mad at me. What did I do?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Merlin, Harry. What have you done?"

"Well?" he demanded.

"I was upset with you because you yelled at me, but that obviously didn't last long. I was just responding to one of Harry's letters after it happened and no, I was not happy with you. To say the least."

This stopped Sirius' tirade and made him think. "When did I yell at you?"

Remus sighed. "Look, I don't want to bring it up again. What's the point?"

"The point is, I obviously felt strongly enough about it to yell and I don't remember what it was!"

"I got mad because you were talking about yourself as though you were some sort of... whore. I told you to stop, you got mad and yelled, and I got mad and left. There, remember that?"

Sirius coloured. "Right."

There was silence between the two of them. "Well, sorry about that," he said, meaning it.

Remus shrugged. "As I said, I'm not angry about it anymore. But I really did mean it when I said you should take a shower. You don't smell as wonderful as I'm sure you could."

Sirius raised an eyebrow in return. "Did you just imply that I usually smell good?" The corners of his lips turned up.

"Merlin Sirius, just leave!" Remus all but shouted at him. Sirius mock saluted and turned to go upstairs, leaving Remus with a very pleasant view of his arse as he left.

Alone in the kitchen, Remus shook his head despairingly, but in amusement. Sirius would be the death of him.

As he moved to the stove to check on the bacon, he caught sight of a piece of paper, lying on the counter. It was Harry's letter. Unable to contain himself, he picked it up.

OOOoooOOO

There you go, what might possibly be the first cliffy of the fic. It's for you to decide. Reviews make me smile, just, you know, on a completely unrelated side note :D


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Okay so I haven't been posting chapters here lately because I'm not getting email alerts and it's annoying. AM I THE ONLY ONE!? It doesn't seem like anyone else is having this problem but it's been going on since like mid july for me. Is there anything I should be doing?

Anyway, I think you'll like this chapter (at least, I hope you will) and a bonus to me backing up a few chapters is that you'll get quite a few pretty quickly. Yay?

Thanks for reviewing, you make my otherwise dull days.

OOOoooOOO

Last Chapter...

Alone in the kitchen, Remus shook his head despairingly, but in amusement. Sirius would be the death of him.

As he moved to the stove to check on the bacon, he caught sight of a piece of paper, lying on the counter. It was Harry's letter. Unable to contain himself, he picked it up.

OOOoooOOO

Even as he unfolded it, he knew it was wrong of him to be reading a private letter between Harry and Sirius, but he really couldn't help himself.

Remus rolled his eyes but couldn't hold back a smile as he read about Harry sneaking around at night. Just like his godfather and father. Always in and out of trouble. He read about himself, and how he was angry with Sirius and narrowed his eyes.

Harry hadn't been supposed to repeat that. He would get the little brat.

He was planning his revenge on his godson even as he read the next sentence.

'You'd better go see him, I swear to Merlin, Sirius, don't be an arse, that's not the way to win anybody over.'

He frowned. What?

Remus reread the paragraph to make sure it was, in fact, him who was being discussed. It was. But it almost sounded like...

He shook his head clear. He must be reading too far into it. It was just his desperate and unfounded hope that made him see something that wasn't there. Right?

He finished up the letter and again caught on 'as long as you make nice with Rem'. It really did sound like...

He dropped the letter on the counter where he'd found it.

Sirius couldn't like him. He was Sirius. He went after tall men, usually raven haired, body building types. Certainly not the oh-so-average Remus, with his mousy brown hair and scrawny build. Not to even touch on his lycanthropy. No. There was no way that was right. He was obviously reading too much into it.

But then, why had Sirius not wanted him to read the letter? Other than that mention, it really was quite a normal letter.

At a loss of what else to do, Remus went back to the stove and continued to cook until, fifteen minutes later, "I'm back."

He froze. "I'd gathered," he said, trying to maintain an air of indifference.

"What's for brekie?" Sirius asked, using his nickname for breakfast.

Remus looked down at the pan. In it were black, foul-smelling lumps that he assumed had been eggs at some point.

"Right, er..." he stammered, mind whirling for a good explanation as to why breakfast was ruined. He couldn't very well say, 'Well Sirius, it just so happens that I read that letter you left here from Harry and am now contemplating whether or not you return my deep and unconditional love for you.' No, that would not do.

Sirius' lips quirked as he observed the pan. "Distracted, much?" He leaned against the counter.

Remus peeped at him, out the corner of his eye. He looked very much the same as he had upon adopting Harry. Hair still black and in the ever famous Black-cut the fell in front of his eyes, adding an air of mystery to his character and his build was much the same, though a touch more filled out. Remus didn't mind, in fact, he appreciated the hell out of it.

The way he held himself was probably the most attractive thing about him, though it did have tough competition. He was confident and it was obvious. He knew he was hot, and he used it. But he was sweet.

Sirius was known for being chivalrous, is all ways but one – he loved sex. Everyone knew it as it had circulated in the newspapers for awhile, listing his previous lovers and first hand accounts of their encounters. Harry knew about it but only to a certain extend, for which Remus was eternally grateful. As promiscuous as Sirius was, Remus didn't want his godson to be judging him on it. Harry didn't seem to care as it was so they tended to leave the topic untouched.

"Remus!"

He snapped out of his daze to find Sirius looking at him in exasperation.

"What?!" he cried. The force behind his friend's yell seemed a bit excessive.

"Merlin's balls Remus, I've been calling you. Did you read this?" He had a scared look in his eyes and he held up the parchment with Harry's letter.

He decided to play dumb. "What is it?"

Remus saw him sag in relief and had to hold himself back from raising an eyebrow questioningly. Sirius really didn't want him to have read that and he would find out why.

If anybody would know, it would be Harry.

OOOoooOOO

"Harry, for Merlin's sake, get your scrawny ass out of bed. It's time for breakfast."

The boy in question simply groaned and rolled over.

Ron tried shaking his friend awake. When all else failed, a cold bucket of water usually did the trick but he didn't like resorting to that.

One particularly violent shake had Harry sitting up and rubbing his eyes groggily.

"What time 'zit?" he groaned.

"Eight o'clock. We're going to be late for breakfast if you don't get up now. And I would suggest skipping a shower but... well, you should probably shower," Ron laughed.

"Fuck off Ron, I don't smell that bad," Harry whined. He didn't want to wait for lunch to eat. A long night of pranking Filch had left him starving.

"It's not your smell, mate," he said looking pointedly down the length of Harry's body. Harry didn't need to follow his gaze to know what he was talking about. He did, after all, remember the basics of his dream. It didn't stop him from being embarrassed though.

"Oi! Ron you arse, turn around. Does nobody care about privacy anymore? Get out, I'll meet you at breakfast."

Ron snorted in amusement. "Don't worry, just yesterday I saw Seamus-"

"Get out!" Harry interrupted, not wanting to know what Ron had seen Seamus doing, though he already had a fairly good idea.

Ron just laughed harder as he left.

Finally left alone, Harry slipped his hand under his pyjamas, intent on making short work of his erection. He did still want breakfast, after all.

Images of bare skin running through his mind, he grasped the base of his hard penis and tugged, trying to bring back his dream. He remembered sliding against a body, slightly smaller than himself. Entangling his hands in the silky hair, while he rubbed against the other.

Harry was jerking himself in earnest now, his dream having gotten him quite far already. His other hand went down to pull his pyjamas down, giving better access to his cock. He twirled his thumb around the head, spreading his precum around in place of lube. His foreskin was snapping back and forth as he maintained the quick speed and he dropped his head back against the pillows.

It had been a few days since he'd had a good wank and to a teenager, that was a lifetime.

He envisioned a head over his groin, taking his cock into their mouth over and over again. Imagined feeling the wet heat and suction of a mouth, his cock hitting the back of their throat and being squeezed as their gag reflex kicked in.

The head looked up and Harry imagined familiar eyes looking up at him. He lost himself.

Pleasure spiked through him and he got a head rush. His toes curled, as they sometimes did, as he felt his own hot cum splash over his stomach. He pulled his cock a few more times, riding the waves of his orgasm, before he stopped and sank back into the bed.

He was almost drifting off when something jerked him awake, and luckily too because he had classes.

"Harry? Harry, you there?" It was Draco, speaking through the mirror.

Not minding his nakedness as Draco could only see his face, Harry reached under his pillow and brought the mirror in front of him.

"Hey Draco, what's going on?"

Draco looked back at him curiously.

"I didn't just wake you up, did I? I've already been down to breakfast and I didn't see you there. Thought I'd see if you were still in your room."

"In my defence, we were up late and then I couldn't fall asleep for awhile with Ron snoring."

"I've told you; throw a silencing charm around your bed and you won't be able to hear a thing."

"Then he wakes me up with ice cold water. I'd prefer the snoring, thank you very much," snorted Harry.

"Right, anyway, why weren't you down for breakfast? If you didn't just wake up, what were you doing?"

Harry hesitated. "I was just lying here." He saw Draco's lips curl knowingly and felt very uneasy about the whole thing.

"You mean the kind of lying there that flushes your cheeks and makes you breathe hard?" He smirked. "Yes, that's the sort of 'lying there' that I appreciate too."

Harry's jaw dropped.

"What the bloody hell happened to privacy? Ron was just joking about that too. So what if I wank? Everybody wanks! It's like eating or something, it's just expected."

Draco burst out laughing and tried to get himself under control before speaking again.

"It's like eating?!" was all he got out before dissolving into another fit of laughter. "Merlin Harry, it's a little better than eating, isn't it? Well, unless you're Ron. I've always thought he enjoyed food a little too much."

He shook his head.

"Like eating... honestly..."

Harry glared. "Anyway," he said pointedly, I probably don't have time for breakfast now, do I?"

Draco's face smiled, "Not likely, no. You should really cut down on your time. I've actually got to go, I have Herbology now. See you in Potions, yes?"

"Right. See you," said Harry.

Mirror away, he stood up to get dressed. He pulled his pants up but looked down when they reached his crotch. He had another hard on. He stared at it.

Why the hell was he hard? He had literally just wanked off, and he had only talked to Draco since then. It wasn't as though he had been talking to Parvati, Lavender, or any of the other highly sought after girls. He had Divination now, and he was probably already going to be late. With this knowledge, he sat back down on his bed for another wank.

OOOoooOOO

At supper that night, Harry was sitting, as usual, with Ron and Hermione. Ron was discussing, or rather ranting about, his extreme dislike for a certain Potions Master while Harry and Hermione shot looks over his head. There was no stopping him when he got like this and they both knew it. Actually, everybody in Gryffindor knew it.

"You know what I'd like to do? I'd like to take his slimy, greasy hair, wrap it around his balls-" here, her was interrupted by Hermione.

"Ronald! Don't talk about a teacher that way! I can't believe you..." She continued to lecture but Harry's attention had been drawn away by Hedwig's approach. He figured it must be a letter back from Sirius.

He turned out to be wrong, but not disappointed. It was from Remus.

Hermione and Ron turned to him, ending their argument, when he snickered.

"What's up, Harry?" asked Ron.

"Remus knows something is up with Sirius. Here, listen to this."

"Harry," he read, "Well it so happens that I read the past letter you sent to dear old Sirius. Let me be the first to thank you for telling him I was angry. Lovely boy, you are. We'll have a talk when you come home for Christmas (yes, you are coming home). Secondly, something struck me as odd in your letter. It sounded as though Sirius, for some reason, cared a great deal about what I thought of him. In addition, he was very reluctant to let me read the letter at all (it would, in fact, be wonderful if you could avoid telling him I read it... big help) which made me understandably suspicious. What's going on, Harry? You ought to know, you sent the letter. Anyway, lots of love always, signed Remus."

By the end, Ron was chuckling and Hermione had a peculiar expression on her face.

"What are you thinking?" Harry asked her.

"What I'm thinking should probably be said in the privacy of your room. Shall we make a trip?"

They quickly made their way to the Gryffindor Common Room, Hermione wearing a thoughtful expression the entire way, while Ron bounced on his feet, probably more eager to share his idea than listen to what Hermione had to say.

They got in and shut the door behind them. Hermione and Harry sat on Ron's bed while the redhead took a seat on the floor.

"Well, what are you thinking?" Harry pushed.

"Maybe Remus likes Sirius back? I mean," Hermione said, sounding her perfectly logical self, "we've always known, at least on some level, that Sirius was in love with him, right? All we needed was a confession and we got that in fourth year. Remus hasn't ever, to our knowledge, had a boyfriend, or even girlfriend. They've known each other for decades, they're both gay, they're best friends... it fits, don't you think?"

Throughout Hermione's speech, Harry had been turning the idea over in his mind. It certainly did seem to fit. Some of the conversations he'd had with Remus had hinted at something along those lines but he'd never wanted to ask and put him on the spot.

It was about time that he did. A smile curved his lips and, looking at his friends, he saw similar expressions.

OOOoooOOO

Did you like it?

The more reviews I get, the faster I post the next chapter (though it's not an exact science...)


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Alright well thank you all so much for the reviews for last chapter. Let's keep that up, shall we? The ultimate goal here is to make you smile then for you to make me smile. I'm in a lonely rut.

This isn't my best work but just keep an open mind, yes? I reworked the chapter a couple times before I posted it but then decided the original was better than the end result haha. Go figure.

OOOoooOOO

Remus smiled as he saw Harry's prompt reply coming with Hedwig at dinner that night. He had been waiting anxiously all day, knowing that his godson wasn't an idiot and hoping he didn't catch on to what he was getting at. He ripped the parchment open.

Remus,

Yes I suppose it would sound like he cared for you, as he does. Actually, we've been talking about you quite a bit lately. He must be worried or something; is anything going on? You're not fighting, are you? I'm not sure why he didn't want you reading the letter though, I can't think of anything he wouldn't want you to see, unless there's something we're both missing.

Glad to hear I'm still invited home, I was starting to wonder if you and Sirius were going to close in on yourselves. You're always alone over there.

Can't wait to see you! Miss you tons,

Harry

Remus put down the letter absentmindedly and sighed. So Sirius had a slight fixation with him. That could happy to anybody, right? It was probably just because he hadn't been dating much lately and his ever-present hormones were on the fritz.

He never did get around to writing Harry back, figuring he would do it sometime he wasn't so flustered.

OOOoooOOO

Harry let out a deep breath. His chest had been feeling tight, his head a little light and his limbs too heavy. In short, he was feeling off and he didn't know why.

It had started that morning before he had even gone down for breakfast so it couldn't be an allergy and it wasn't something in the air because his friends were all feeling fine.

"Harry?" Ginny asked cautiously. "Are you feeling any better?"

She was asking cautiously because Harry had been snapping at people all day. Normally when he was sick, he became a little pathetic and pitiable but today he was out of sorts. It probably had to do with the fact that he had never felt this way before and it wasn't pleasant.

"No," he grumbled, bringing his hands up to his hair, rubbing his fingertips through it. Sirius always did it for him when he was feeling ill and it was a sort of comfort, feeling like his was safe at home, where nothing could reach him.

That was it, he realized.

It felt like something was trying to intrude. Not the flu or anything else as inconsequential, but something that could get inside his head.

He'd never felt anything like it before, nothing as irritating and persistent as this.

"Maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing?" Not the first time it had been suggested to him.

The only difference this time was that it had come from someone else.

He turned around to see Draco standing in the middle of the Gryffindor Common Room.

"I let him in," Hermione said, answering the unasked question.

"Thanks," he told her, before turning his attention to Draco. "I don't feel well."

"So I've heard. Listen to your whining, too. It's terrible. You're of better breeding than that, you should really watch your tone of voice."

Harry stared. "Glad to see you're still your empathetic self. I would be worried if you suddenly became cold." His tone was dripping with sarcasm. This alone made Draco falter. Harry was usually fairly nice to him, and he returned the mood. An actual bad-tempered Harry was something relatively new. At least, he considered, when the unpleasantness was directed towards him.

"Come on, let's get you to the Hospital Wing. I don't want you being an ass tomorrow too. I think we've all had just about enough of that today." He grabbed his arm and dragged him up and out of the Common Room.

Once Draco got him out of the room, Harry actually came along quite quietly.

"Merlin, I feel like shit, what the hell's wrong with me?" He groaned, his fingers crept up to massage his scalp again.

Draco's eyebrows knitted, concerned. "How long have you been feeling like this? You looked fine at breakfast this morning."

"No, it started before then, but it only really got bad later. It's not as though it's intolerable pain, it's just an annoyance and it's been on my nerves all day. I've only got one nerve left, by now."

Draco smirked. "I'll bet I know where it is."

Harry scowled in disgust and, though he wouldn't admit it, amusement. "Shut up, you pervert. Is that all you think about?"

"Yes. Actually, maybe this thing is all in your head. A good fuck might do the job. Though I don't suppose Pomfrey would ever suggest that, eh?" Draco said chuckling.

"Merlin's beard, you're crude."

"Better than being innocent."

"Oddly enough, I think I agree."

"I know," Draco said, as smugly as always.

They finally reached the Hospital Wing, after a good ten minute walk down.

"I never realized how big our school was," Draco commented thoughtfully.

"You say that about once a week when we're trying to find someone... or run away from someone," Harry said with the tone of having had this conversation more times than interested him. If it had even interested him the first time.

They pushed past the heavy oak doors and called for Madam Pomfrey who bustled in a moment later.

"What seems to be the matter, Mister Potter?" she asked, singling him out from the two of them in an instant.

"Erm, well I've had this ache all day. My head is a little light. I feel like all the fluid from my head's rushed to my arms and legs. It's weird; I've never felt like this before."

The nurse gestured for him to sit on a nearby bed.

"Do you feel faint? How long have you felt like this? Has it been getting worse?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at all the questions but Harry just answered.

"A little, since before breakfast so I guess around nine hours, no just more persistent."

The two boys could see the medi-witch working out what he had answered in her head. If she hadn't wanted all the answers clumped together, thought Draco touchily, she shouldn't have asked them in a clump.

He was worried about Harry. He wasn't being his normal self. It seemed almost as if someone completely different was talking to him through Harry's body. Except for a few cut conversations – and even those were about nothing particularly important – Harry was being very quiet and reserved. This was quite a contrast to his normal scheming and amusing self.

When Hermione had come to him, telling him that he had to convince Harry to come to the Hospital Wing, he had nearly had a fit. What was wrong with Harry? Why hadn't he told him, himself? He had relaxed a bit when Hermione had further elaborated but was now happy to be with his friend in the safety of Pomfrey's care. If anything happened, Pomfrey was the one you wanted around.

Pomfrey was now running her wand over Harry, looking for signs of anything that might be wrong. She eventually gave up and dropped her wand hand to her side.

"Mister Potter, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong. That I can find at least. Since it hasn't been getting worse, I don't think there is any immediate danger. I would, however, insist that you stay here until you start feeling better." The medi-witch was always one to worry but Draco thought it was quite justified this time. He didn't want Harry getting any worse but if he did, at least Pomfrey could take him to Saint Mungos instead of Harry just sitting in the Common Room.

Harry rolled his eyes and settled back into the bed. "I hate having to stay here. Nothing's even wrong this time, it's not like a have a broken arm."

"Whatever, you know we won't be able to change her mind. She's too stubborn for her own good. I'll stay with you as long as I can but I have quite a bit of homework tonight," said Draco.

"Fuck, so do I. I didn't even think about that," Harry sighed. "I can't believe she's keeping me in here. I have just as much ho-" he cut his speak and brought both hands up to his head, wincing in pain.

"Harry?!" Draco questioned, alarmed. Harry was usually one to hide physical pain. When he'd broken his arm playing Quidditch, no one had even known until he'd made a trip to the Hospital Wing following the game. Of course, the flu was a different matter – he complained his arse off about that.

Harry wasn't answering, despite Draco's calls. The Gryffindor's body had started shaking a little and Draco stood up quickly from his place on the bed, careful not to touch him.

"Madame Pomfrey! Where the bloody hell are you?!" He turned back to his friend who was still trembling only to notice that he had started emitting whimpers. "Madame Pomfrey!"

"Yes dear, calm yourself! For Merlin's sake, I'm right here," she said, preoccupied. She had brought a cart full of potions and was feeding them one by one down Harry's throat.

"Do you know what's wrong? I thought you said you couldn't find anything! Shouldn't you not give him potions if you don't even know what's wrong?" Draco was frantic but hoping desperately that she actually knew what was going on. It would calm him down, even if it didn't exactly fix Harry.

"No Mister Malfoy, I don't know what's wrong. I'm giving him calming potions, some pain relievers and some dreamless sleep potions." She said all this while pouring the respective potions down his throat.

The odd thing to Draco was that Harry still seemed conscious. His eyes were open, though squinting, and he was still sitting up but he wasn't responding to the conversation they were having about him.

Draco swallowed thickly. Nothing could happen to Harry. He was his best friend and damn near only confidant. He watched, half in relief, as Harry's body relaxed. The nurse gently laid him down against the pillows behind him.

"What was that?" Draco asked, completely drained and ready to cry for the first time in five years.

"I don't know," she said, still staring at her charge. "Mister Malfoy, would you go to the Headmaster's office and alert him that I have Mister Potter in the Hospital Wing." It wasn't a question.

Draco ran through the halls, wasting no time in getting to Dumbledore's office. They obviously knew something about Harry that he didn't, and if it could help him get better, he would do his job without complaint.

He knocked on the gargoyle, having no guesses for the password, and waited anxiously for it to jump aside. Jump aside it did, nearly bawling him over in the process.

Albus Dumbledore appeared wearing, as usual, a bright purple robe paired with a forest green wizard's hat.

"Ah, hello there," said the docile tones of the Headmaster, "how may I be of service, Mister Malfoy?"

Trying to catch his breath and talk at the same time, Draco managed to get out, "Harry..." gasp, "had fit," gasp, "Hospital Wing."

Amazingly, the Headmaster seemed to understand him and his face became serious at once. "He has been feeling off all day, I suppose?"

Draco nodded, still breathing hard and clutching a newly developed stitch in his side.

"Go back to your Common Room, Draco," he frowned at the use of his first name. That was unusual but then, this whole situation was.

Having no real choice in the matter, he left the hallway but did not return to his own Common. He took a detour, knowing that Harry's friends would like very much to know what was going on. He knew he would hate it if they hadn't told him about something like this.

Arriving at the Fat Lady, he knocked. He hated waiting outside doors like this, especially when he was as restless as he was now. He didn't have to wait long this time, though, as a fourth year opened the door to him. They all knew him so there was no question of letting him in.

He found Hermione and Ron sitting with Ginny and Longbottom by the fire in some armchairs.

"Could I speak with you?" he asked, looking pointedly at the other two. "In private?"

When they were safely tucked into a corner of the room, he relayed the story to them, emphasizing that Madame Pomfrey hadn't known what was wrong but that she had called for Dumbledore.

Hermione's mind was, as always, working quickly and drawing up conclusions before Ron could completely process what had been said. Draco knew by now that if anything coherent was going to get said, it would be by Hermione.

"What do you think is going on? Do you think Harry's been keeping something from m- us?" he asked desperately, changing the 'me' to 'us' when he realized how selfish that would have sounded.

"No," said Hermione resolutely. "He hasn't been keeping anything, he's an awful liar. That must mean he doesn't know what's going on either." Her face fell sympathetically. "He's probably just as scared as we are."

Ron shifted from his place on the floor. "I think we should write Sirius. If anybody knows what's going on, it's him."

Draco considered this to be the most intelligent thing he'd ever heard from Ron.

"It would be beneficial to have the people who know the most of Harry working on it, and I suppose Sirius would fall at the very top of that list," Draco's throat tightened. "I need to go back to my room, Dumbledore will most likely be checking to make sure I went. Will you write Sirius?"

Even as Ron and Hermione nodded, all three of them knew Draco was lying. There was no chance of Dumbledore checking up on him when something far more important held his attention. Draco just needed to get away.

OOOoooOOO

Yes well, as I warned, not my best work but I don't think it's terrible or anything. Hopefully you don't either? Haha, remember to review! I thrive on them, and them alone.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Not a whole lot to say except that I can't wait for the holidays! There will be another chapter out before Christmas (most likely JUST before, because that's when my free time is :D)

Hope you enjoy!

And there's always a fatality: I sent you the chapter of 'Love is just a game' forever ago but I guess it didn't send? I sent it again when you asked just to make sure. Did you get it? What did you think?

OOOoooOOO

Draco lay on his bed, no pillow under his head and legs bent at the knees. He was still completely shaken because of what he's seen earlier. It had looked like Harry was having some sort of seizure, not that he was an expert on the matter.

He couldn't believe what had happened, no matter how many times he replayed it in his head. Harry and he were young, magical, and popular. They were supposed to be infallible. And then something like this happened to completely turn that delusion around. Not only were they mortal, they were weak. They weren't trained wizards who could run into a dangerous situation and think nothing for it.

They were practically still children.

Draco almost wished it had been him that was sick, instead of Harry. Waiting in his room for news was awful, sickening. Hermione and Ron would have written to Sirius and Remus already and surely, once they arrived, they would let him in to see Harry. They all knew each other well enough, Draco having visited quite the number of times, before even Ron or Hermione. He got along well with both Sirius and Remus, but more so with Sirius. He tended to think that Sirius saw some of the Marauders in Harry and Draco and loved them for it.

But Draco didn't want to wait for them to show up. He needed to see Harry. Now. He needed to make sure he was okay – ever in the loosest sense of the word. To see him alive would be an improvement to how he was feeling now.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Draco thought that the amount of concern he was showing was ridiculous, and that he shouldn't be this worried over a friend. He shoved these thoughts aside as quickly as they had come. Of course he was worried; it was Harry.

This thought at the forefront of his mind, he got up off his now thoroughly mussed bed and straightened his hair out. It had been a couple hours since he'd spoken with Ron and Hermione and he'd done nothing but lie in bed. He grabbed a cloak that had been recently cleaned to hide his dishevelled clothes and, throwing it over his shoulder's, left his room.

Draco was no idiot, he knew he would not be able to just waltz into the Hospital Wing, disobeying direct orders from the Headmaster, so he made his way instead to Gryffindor Tower to get Harry's invisibility cloak. He knew his friend wouldn't mind. He had long ago offered it up to Draco for any situation where he thought he would need it.

Ron and Hermione knew this, although they hadn't been granted the same allowance so he had no problems getting into the room and getting the cloak. Harry's friends hadn't even asked questions, just opened the portrait and left him to it. Draco would have to remember to thank them later but right now, he had far more important things on his mind. Like making sure his best friend was alive.

He made sure he was properly covered even before the left the Gryffindor Common Room, because he wasn't supposed to be out of his rooms in the first place.

He ran into no troubles on the way to the Hospital Wing, none of the usual stumbling with Filch or Mrs. Norris that he and Harry had just come to expect. So much was his good luck that his mood was actually looking up by the time he got there. That was, until he saw that the door to the Wing was shut. He had never seen it shut before.

His heart sank. It seemed that they weren't welcoming other injured or ill students into the Wing because of Harry. It also posed a problem because he was now unsure of how to get it. Draco couldn't hear anything happening inside, but that didn't mean a thing. They were wizards and silencing spells were practically built in to most of them.

Just as he was readying himself to sit and wait it out, Professor Snape walked up and opened the door. Never had he been so pleased to see a teacher. Draco quickly, and as quietly as was possible, slipped in behind him. He could have sworn that he saw his professor's eye shoot back for a moment, but then it was gone. Draco assured himself that Snape must have just twitched.

The blond took in the large room where he had been, not hours ago. There was a huge screen around where he presumed Harry was lying, and more teachers than he had ever seen in one place, bar the Great Hall. There were also many people he didn't recognize. A young attractive woman with bright pink hair, though the serious expression on her face clashed with everything else about her, a tall black man who looked very powerful and important indeed, and a few young men who looked slightly worse for wear, among them.

Everyone was gravitating around Dumbledore, the obvious leader of this strange group.

"Thank you all for coming," he addressed, earning everyone's attention, including Draco's.

"I'm sure you know why you are here today, the reason is just behind that curtain under a dreamless sleeping potion. Earlier today, Mister Harry Potter suffered some sort of attack."

Gasps were heard all around the room, though only from the younger among them.

"Be aware that this was not a physical attack, but something worse. Our medi-witch," he nodded at Madame Pomphrey who reddened under the attention, "tells me that before he fell under the influence of the potions, he told her he felt as though his mind was being invaded." He ended this with a grim tone.

Everyone this time, not only the inexperienced adults, looked shaken at the very least, horrified at the most.

What gained a reaction from Draco was everybody else's reaction. He had, after all, known that. Now though, seeing all these adults who he had admired, or feared in some cases, look so fearful made his heart pound. If they were this afraid of something, he imagined he should be feeling about three-fold.

"To make matters worse," Dumbledore continued, rousing the people from their shock, "our Death Eater informant from the previous war has told us that his dark mark burned late last night."

OOOoooOOO

Remus was pretending to read a book in the living room, actually thinking of a way to get to Sirius, when the object of his thoughts walked in.

"Hey Rem, I didn't know you were here," Sirius said, wearing a long t-shirt and boxers.

"Merlin Sirius, did you just get out of bed?" He checked his watch, "It's six thirty, for gods sake!"

Sirius turned red, "No Rem, I'm actually not that lazy, contrary to popular belief. I just never got changed. Why would I, if no one's here to see me?"

Remus snorted, "Yes, that's not lazy at all."

"Shut up. Why are you here, though? You usually at least say hello when you come over."

"Erm, right, sorry. I was looking for something. Some research, you understand." In truth, he had been hoping to catch Sirius off guard and do something a little more intelligent than what was currently going on. But that was okay, he assured himself, because Sirius had also caught him off guard.

Seeming to accept this, Sirius then asked, "What are you researching?" while looking over his shoulder.

Sirius' scent consumed Remus, completely throwing him off topic. He could smell that wonderful masculine scent that seemed to follow his friend everywhere, as well as the tiniest hint of aftershave lotion. His eyes started to roll back in his head.

"Moony?"

He jumped, "What?"

"Uh... what are you researching?"

Remus looked down at the encyclopaedia he had randomly opened in his lap. On the pages open, there were only two headings. He read them.

Spandex or spanking.

Oh Merlin.

He didn't need to look to know that Sirius had also read them.

"I'm a little afraid to ask, but which one of those –" at that moment, an owl flew in through the open window. Remus had never felt so relieved in his entire life. At least now he could try to come up with some viable explanation as to why he was researching spandex. Spandex, because he would never, in one million years, tell Sirius that he had been reading about spanking. For any reason. Even if one day, it happened to be true. Never.

Sirius was still looking at him oddly as he opened the letter off the owl's leg.

"It's from Hermione and Ron," he said frowning, as he read the signature.

Remus also frowned. The last time they had written him had been when Harry had gone through his first breakup and had fallen into a depression. This didn't feel right.

He watched as Sirius read the letter to himself, and still while the other's expression grew terrified. He dropped the letter, and Remus watched as it floated down to land on the floor. He looked back up, meeting his love's eyes, to find tears. Remus shoved the heavy volume onto the floor and stood up jerkily.

"What?" he asked, his tone demanding an answer.

"Harry had a seizure or something." Sirius said flatly. "Ron and Hermione don't know what it was, but he had said something about his mind being pressed... like someone was trying to get in," he said in one breath.

Remus' heart sped up, and he felt adrenaline rushing through his veins. That almost sounded like possession. Nothing like this had been reported since...

He swallowed everything he was feeling, took a deep breath in, then out, and grabbed Sirius' arm tightly.

"We're going to Hogwarts."

OOOoooOOO

The buzz in the Hospital Wing had calmed down somewhat, and most of the people Draco didn't recognize had left but he was still staggering mentally. Was Dumbledore implying that the Dark Lord was back? Just because Harry had gotten sick?

But no, he had also mentioned something about a Death Eater informant. Did that mean there was a Death Eater in the school? Draco had heard stories from kids at school who, he assumed, had heard from their parents.

Death Eaters were the Dark Lords followers. Awful people, who tortured muggles and wizards alike. And not just for information – but for amusement purposes. They would use the imperious curse like they were conjuring tea. There had been mayhem when Voldemort had been around but Harry had defeated him. That's why he was famous. He wouldn't be famous if he hadn't actually killed Voldemort, right?

Draco was just making his way around the large screen when the Hospital doors banged open. The few people left jumped as, only Draco saw, did Harry.

Interesting. Had he been awake this entire time?

The voices of Remus and Sirius – well actually, just Sirius, but where Sirius burst in, one could be sure that Remus followed – disrupted the relative silence.

"Where is he? Is Harry alright?" Sirius yelled.

Draco watched the shadow's on the other side of the screen. Dumbledore glided over to the irate man and shushed him.

"Harry is doing fine. It was a temporary attack, and he is now resting with the help of some potions.

While Sirius seemed a little calmed, his body stayed incredibly rigid. "Where is he?" he demanded once more.

"Behind the curtain," the Headmaster said, leading him dangerously near to where Draco stood. "As you can see, he is once again peaceful."

Abated for the time being by seeing his godson, Sirius allowed Remus to lead him away into a corner of the room. Draco saw the former gesturing, obviously very upset. Remus grabbed onto either arm and pulled him closer, into a hug. Sirius latched on, tighter than Draco had ever seen two people hug, least of all two people who claimed only to have feelings of friendship towards the other.

Draco looked back at Harry. He was sure he was awake. People don't jump in their sleep from noises made in the real world.

He poked him, very gently, on the shoulder. "Harry?" he whispered.

Obviously recognizing the voice, Harry cracked an eye open and swept his little alcove. Not seeing anything, he closed his eye, probably thinking he was hearing things.

He poked him again, "I'm wearing your cloak, you dunce," he said softly, gazing down at the soft face.

This time Harry opened both eyes, knowing that he was not surrounded by people and Draco actually was there.

Seeing this, Draco smiled and slid the cloak off his head. "Hey, how do you feel?"

Harry smiled back, "Embarrassed. Of all people, I should know that just because it doesn't look like you're there, it doesn't mean you're not."

Draco rolled his eyes, but in good humour. "As much as I love pretending nothing's wrong, and believe me I do, maybe we should talk about something? Have you been awake this entire time?"

Harry replied, "Yes, I only fell asleep for about an hour or so, those have never worked too well on me."

"So then you heard everything that I did."

"Could we please not talk about this right now? I've had a bit of a rough day." He gave a wry smile and pulled Draco down into the bed next to him. Draco allowed himself to be pulled, needing to be close to Harry, to reassure himself that he was safe.

"Don't do that again Harry, or so help me Merlin..."

"I won't."

They rearranged the cloak around Draco so that if anybody were to look in, they would just see Harry, albeit curled into something that wasn't there.

Neither of them fell asleep, each being too high strung, but just lay there, accepting the other's comfort.

OOOoooOOO

Ugh, it's not even an especially long chapter...

Hope you liked it though! Remember to review!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I'm not even going to go into how long it's been since I updated. Enjoy!

OOOoooOOO

Harry shifted awake on the hospital bed and peeked his eyes open, only to see unusually serious blue eyes staring at him, from what couldn't be more than six inches away. He jumped and let out a squeal that he would later be embarrassed about.

"Ah, Mister Potter," said the Headmaster in amusement, "you are awake, I see."

Still trying to calm his racing heart and wake up properly, Harry responded, quite cleverly, "Wha?"

"You slept longer than we had anticipated, but no matter. I have some issues of great importance to discuss with you."

Finally having gathered his bearings, Harry wondered if Draco was still in the room. He looked around in vain, knowing that even if he was there, he'd be under the invisibility cloak. Still, he thought, it would be nice to get a sign that he was there.

That sign presented itself in Draco poking him sharply from underneath the cloak. This made Harry jump once again.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Harry, perhaps you have been affected more deeply than I realized. Would you like a touch more time to compose yourself?" Harry noticed the Headmaster was looking quite concerned.

Harry had the good graces to blush. "No Sir, I apologize. I was just trying to remember where I was. It's been a long day."

"Indeed it has, which brings me to the reason I came. Surely you know of Voldemort and the war that ended with you?"

Harry gave him an odd look and nodded. There were, after all, books written about him.

"Well it seems that Voldemort has... returned." He paused to observe Harry's reaction but, having already heard this, Harry only looked slightly troubled.

"It also appears that you have some sort of connection to him through your mind. That would explain your attack yesterday. We are not sure what exactly this means, and I do not wish to alarm you, but I thought it best to not hide what we already know. We need you to be aware of this to maintain safety." He paused to get Harry's reaction.

"... Erm, shouldn't there be some sort of... measure taken?" he asked, a little unnerved.

"Precisely what I was thinking. I have, therefore, arranged for Occlumency classes between Professor Snape and yourself starting tomorrow and continuing on after Yule. Now, I know the two of you are not known for your well-meaning attitudes towards each other," he said as he saw Harry's face fall at the suggestion. "I know I can trust you both to handle it with maturity and grace."

Harry exhaled forcefully. "Fine. But... should I be worried about Voldemort? I mean, if he's got this connection, and especially since I was the one who killed him last time," he swallowed. He hadn't thought of it that way before.

Dumbledore shook his head gently. "I highly doubt Voldemort will be coming after you. He will, I hate to say, most likely be targeting muggles and muggle-borns. He should not even be aware of your connection if we prepare you properly. Don't worry Harry, you are safe here."

Harry let out a breath. "Okay, thanks Professor."

Just as Dumbledore started to leave, Harry asked, "Oh, by the way, do you think I could go back to my room now?"

The twinkle reappeared in Dumbledore's eye. "That would be up to Madame Pomfrey; I'm afraid I never mastered the healing arts. Take care Mister Potter." And with a nod, he left.

Harry grumbled as he leaned back into bed. The medi-witch would never let him leave the same day he was admitted. Resigning himself to that fact, called for Draco. He may as well get some entertainment while he waited.

The blond appeared by his side within two seconds of hearing his name. He seemed to be much happier than Harry.

"What?" asked Harry, a look of trepidation blooming on his face. It was never a good sign when Draco had that particular look of glee.

"You have to have private lessons with Sev!" he howled. The potions professor and Harry were infamous for their fights. No one wanted to be around when they got going because they were bound to lose points to their irate potions Professor, and there seemed to be no end to the jabs between them. Nothing was out of bounds.

Draco, of course, thought it was absolutely hilarious that his godfather and best friend were at such odds. He knew it helped Harry let off steam, whether he would admit it or not, and after the blowups, Harry actually seemed a little more relaxed and happier. Well, except for the missing House points.

Harry scowled. "Shut up. Fuck. Occlumency? I can't do that!"

Draco had calmed down enough to pat him on the back reassuringly. "I've heard it's not actually that hard if you start learning bits at a time."

"Yeah," said Harry incredulously, "because Snape'll start me off easily."

Draco paused. "Maybe I'll talk to him. If it's something important, I can't see him fucking around just to piss you off."

"Yes well, that's where we differ, isn't it?" Harry sunk into his bed and crossed him arms gloomily.

The Slytherin rolled his eyes at his friend's behaviour.

"I can't believe the hat wanted to put you into Slytherin. No self-respecting snake would pout like you are. Buck up, it won't be that bad. Maybe they'll let me attend as... a guard? Or something? No one'll trust the two of you alone anyway."

"Draco, that won't work, don't be stupid." Harry complained even as he cracked a smile. "Anyway, how long have I been asleep anyway? Dumbledore said I'd slept longer than he'd thought, even with the dreamless sleep potion."

"Erm, I'm not entirely sure because I fell asleep for awhile but I've been awake about three hours. I think I only slept about two though, so – "

He was interrupted as the door to the Hospital Wing opened and, as the screen was no longer blocking him from view, Harry saw Madame Pomfrey walk in. Panic flashed through his body as he remembered Draco had been expressly forbidden from being in the Hospital when Harry was. Apparently he was a 'hindrance to the healing process'. Harry mentally rolled his eyes.

Before she could start her lecture, he launched into his apology. "Madame Pomfrey, I'm really sorry, I didn't think it would matter because I'm feeling much better and I've suffered such an ordeal that I just wanted..." He trailed off as he saw her confused expression.

"Mister Potter," she said, pursing her lips and raising one eyebrow. "What have you done?"

"Uh..." Harry looked back to the other side of the bed where Draco had been standing to see only air. He realized his jaw had dropped and snapped it back shut.

"Nothing. You shocked me awake," he said innocently as he rubbed his eyes. "Must have a guilty conscience." He smiled, digging deeply into his inherited Marauders acting abilities. "Do you think I'm fit to leave? I've gotten more rest than my entire tower probably got last night, and my head feels perfect."

She stared at him, as though trying to see through a lie that may or may not have been there.

"I've already spoken to the Headmaster and he didn't seem to have any problem with me leaving." He pouted his bottom lip out, ever so slightly.

"Oh good Gods, Potter," she rolled his eyes, "you don't need to pout, you're nearly a grown mad. Get out, if you want to so badly!"

"Thanks Madame Pomfrey!" he smiled and stood up, straightening his clothes as he walked. He could hope Draco got out without trouble.

OOOoooOOO

By the time the next day rolled around, Harry had filled Ron and Hermione in on the events of the day and the news of Voldemort's apparent connection with him. Draco had also made his escape from the Hospital Wing known to Harry with their mirrors. All in all, the week was looking up.

That was, until he remembered his appointment with Snape. That wouldn't be pleasurable in the least. However, right afterwards, he, Sirius and Remus were going out for dinner in Hogsmeade. His guardians had figured that, so long as they were there, they may as well see each other. At least he had that to look forward to.

Resigning himself to his fate, he slowly made his way to the dungeons. He found himself at Snape's door and, grimacing at his own luck, knocked.

Snape opened the door, looking just about as thrilled as Harry felt. It seemed he couldn't even bring himself to invite the Gryffindor in, and just walked back into his room, leaving the door open.

The potions professor positioned himself at one end of the class room and Harry stood opposite him near a table.

"You're going to want to be sitting for this, Potter." Snape sneered. "It can be a little rough."

Harry sneered right back. "I'm sure I can handle it, thanks."

Snape raised his wand and, not knowing what to do, Harry raised his as well.

"Legilimens."

Flashes of eating breakfast with Sirius and Remus when he was young, of breaking his toy broom and crying, of Sirius telling him he was proud to be his godfather.

Harry could feel Snape retreat and the next thing he knew, he was on his knees in the potions room feeling completely exhausted.

"You really did have the perfect childhood, didn't you Potter?" he scowled.

Harry smirked, "Jealous?"

Instead of answering, he once again aimed his wand and said, "Legilimens."

Running away from Filch with Draco, laughing with Ron and Hermione, flying around the pitch at night with Draco.

He once again came to awareness on his knees. He was becoming weaker and was unable to force memories he didn't want the man to see into the back of his mind.

"Shouldn't we be starting off slowly, or something? How am I supposed to learn with you throwing things at me?" Harry asked breathlessly, too tired to come up with something cheeky.

Snape shrugged. "Perhaps. We'll save that for next lesson, shall we?"

"Legilimens."

An awkward kiss with Cho, sitting on the couch perhaps a little closer to Draco than he needed to be, talking to Draco through the mirror then having to wank... wait. That wasn't something Snape should be seeing.

He gathered more force than he knew he had, and pushed Snape out.

This time they were both on the ground, a fact that, while small, pleased Harry. "You pervert, I can't believe you saw that!" he yelled.

"Yes, because I was thrilled about it, Potter. Try to keep those memories in the back of your mind in the future."

"Whatever, I'm leaving." He hobbled to the door and left.

Severus didn't move from his position for a moment. Draco and Potter? Did that make any sort of sense? Yes, they were close friends, and they spent an inordinate amount of time together for two people in different houses – or two people at all, come to that – but it had never occurred to him.

Going over the memories in his head, he noticed a trend. Potter and Draco seemed to spend a lot of time together at night in only each other's company. They also seemed to be in physical contact more than one would expect of two males. The way Draco had held Potter's elbow as they ran from Filch, or how they had been curled up on the couch in front of a fire, their entire sides touching.

And then, of course, there was the memory that Snape would be trying to repress for the rest of his natural life. That had been something he had really not needed to see, although it did lend everything and more to his now blossoming theory.

He would really have to talk to Draco about this. His godson being Harry Potter's friend, he could handle, if only barely, but if they became lovers or even entered into a serious relationship... His training couldn't mask his horror.

Severus knocked on wood.

OOOoooOOO

Harry arrived at the Three Broomsticks where Remus and Sirius were waiting. They pulled up a chair and ordered. Sirius, being Sirius, was quick to express his concern over Harry.

"Don't worry, really. I was talking to Dumbledore about it and he says I have this weird mental connection to him but he doesn't even know it's there. He's having me go to Snape for lessons in Occlumency. Actually, I just got back from one..."

Sirius sat up a little straighter. "He's having you go to Snivellus for lessons in guarding your mind?"

Remus touched Sirius' arm discreetly, "Sh, let's let Harry tell us about it before we get angry." It was obvious to anyone that when he said 'we', he meant 'you'.

Harry deliberately toned the lesson down so that his godfather wouldn't go and kill Draco's. He couldn't see his friend being too happy about that, no matter how he himself would feel.

Once they were over that hurdle, the conversation turned to the typical small talk between them. That is to say, not really talking about anything, but at the same time, talking about everything.

"So what were you guys doing when you had to rush over to see helpless little me?" Harry asked.

"Nothing!" Remus said loudly before Sirius had a chance to think.

Both stared at him oddly. Sirius was always the one with loud outbursts; it wasn't something Remus was known for.

In hindsight, it had probably been a bad move on Remus' part as it caused Sirius to stop and actually think about what they had been doing. The moment he realized it, he burst out laughing.

Harry, still in the dark, cried, "What?"

"Well," said Sirius, leaning in conspiratorially. "I walk into the library and who do I see, but Remus, reading an encyclopaedia?" He paused for dramatic effect.

Harry couldn't take it. "And?!"

Remus, who was much redder than usual, tried to stand up to escape the situation but was hauled back down by Sirius who hadn't even broken eye contact with Harry.

"He was open to a page and there were only two entries." A beat. "Spandex and spanking." This last bit was nearly whispered, making Harry lean in to hear.

They both bounced back into their seats hooting with laughter. Harry turned to a beet red Remus and, still laughing, asked, "What were you ACTUALLY reading it for?"

"I was... I didn't... What I was... I was doing research."

Sirius sighed and patted Remus on the back. "Figures. I'll never get anything kinky out of you."

Unbidden, Remus' mind retorted with, 'Just try me'.

OOOoooOOO

Well there you have it. Hope you enjoyed it. I'm pretty busy right now what with a new semester. I'm switching universities next year so that's also kind of in the air. I really do try, though.

Send me love! Next chapter will have a little boy-love in it!!!FINALLY!!!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thank you for the record number of reviews! I appreciate them sooo much, you have no idea. I actually really like this chapter, so I hope you will too. The writing at the very beginning is not really up to par but I think it gets better later on. I really need a beta. I can't for the life of me correct and change my own work… Ugh.

Anyway, please fasten your seatbelts and keep your eyes on the road!

OOOoooOOO

A week later found Pansy Parkinson smirking at the scene in front of her. Her boyfriend, Blaise Zabini was being mercilessly annoyed by Draco. The former was sitting on the Slytherin Common Room couch, facing the fire, and Draco was standing behind him with his wand out, throwing silent charms his way. Blaise currently had a half dozen yellow canaries flying around his head, one of which would occasionally land on his ear. He was frantically trying to beat them off as Draco howled with laughter.

Deciding to interrupt their 'fun', Pansy yelled, "Draco!" to get his attention. Distracted, he turned to look at Pansy, freeing Blaise from his charm. "Aren't you supposed to meet with Snape soon? I thought you had an appointment?"

Draco froze and his eyes widened.

"Pans... how long ago would you say we had supper?"

Pansy shrugged, "About an hour, why?"

"Bloody hell," Draco cursed and ran out of the room without another word.

It was a short trek to the Potion Master's chambre, but Draco had enough time to mull over the possible repercussions of being almost half an hour late to an appointment with his godfather. Just as his mind started contemplating cleaning the whole Great Hall with a toothbrush, he slammed Severus' door open and leaned over, hands on his knees, trying to regain his breath.

Severus was sitting in his usual armchair, tapping his foot distractedly.

"Sev-rus," he panted, trying to stand straight, "so sorry… I'm late…" gasp, "I don't want to clean the … Great Hall… with a toothbrush."

Severus gave him a strange look but shook his head slightly, recovering as only he could.

"I think, Draco, that we need to talk, godfather to godson."

Draco tensed slightly but decided to make light of it. "What, are you going to give me the sex talk?" He chuckled. When Snape didn't reply, his smile faded.

"Seriously, Sev, I got the sex talk before I even came to Hogwarts. I don't think we need to ruin our relationship by talking about that!"



The professor rolled his eyes. "Draco, of course we are not going to have the 'sex talk'. I believe if you do not understand the dynamics of that by your age, there is no hope. However, your guess is not far off."

"… What is it? I didn't do anything! I've been with Harry the past few days, you can ask. I've been too preoccupied to do anything!"

Severus rubbed a hand over his face in annoyance. "Draco, not everything I say is to chastise you. Yes, I have been doing a lot of that lately, but you have been doing more and more to deserve it. Now listen." He motioned to Draco who plopped down in a seat opposite him. "I wish to talk to you about your relationship with Mr. Potter."

He couldn't quite keep the sneer out of his voice when he said Potter's name, but hoped his godson hadn't picked up on it. The last thing he needed right now was to make Draco more uncomfortable with this discussion.

Draco rolled his eyes and huffed. "Sev, I am well aware that you don't like Harry. We've had this discussion more times than I can count. But I've told you, I don't care. He's my friend."

"Is he your friend? Are you sure that is how you would define… whatever it is you have with him?"

"Merlin Severus, what are you talking about? Of course he's my friend!"

"I am just wondering if Potter interprets your relationship in the same way you do."

Draco paused. Something was gnawing at the back of his mind. Why would Severus even be thinking about him and Harry unless something had set it off? But when would Harry ever see Severus? They avoided each other like the plague, and hated even seeing the other. Why, when Harry had needed to go to Severus for Occlumency lessons, he –

"What did you see in Harry's head?"

Snape glanced at Draco, impressed that he had caught on so quickly.

"Now Draco, surely you understand that that would be breaking an ethical code," Severus said, smirking.

Draco growled at him. Of course, he would say that. Just when they were finally getting somewhere.

"What did you see? I don't particularly care about your ethics code, seeing as how you don't have one."

"You won't get anywhere speaking to me like that, Draco. Even so, I believe you lost sight of the fact that I am the one who initiated this conversation. I want you to know what I saw, and what I consider it to mean." Severus couldn't believe he was about to push his godson's relationship with the Potter boy.

"Well then?" the blonde asked impatiently.

"Amongst scenes that I wish I had never seen," Severus repressed a shudder, "there were a few of you with him". He himself hadn't been able to sleep well since the 'incident', as he had taken to calling that day in his mind.

"Doing what?" Draco asked, terror creeping into his tone. If Severus had seen half the things they had gotten up to… He should have realized earlier that this was what he wanted to talk about. No, he hadn't been up to anything lately, but having his godfather search the mind of his best friend could only spell trouble for him. This didn't, however, connect with why Sev thought their relationship needed examination.

"One memory had you running from an irate Filch…" 

This didn't bother Draco. Everyone in the school knew that they terrorized Filch, after one morning, Filch had come into the Great Hall with purple skin and green tipped hair, spouting multicoloured bubbles every time he tried to speak.

"And one had you together on a couch in front of a fire."

Once again, Draco drew a blank. How was that significant at all?

"And…?" Draco questioned, expecting an explanation.

"You think nothing odd of 'cuddling' under a blanket, all alone, at night, with Mr. Potter?"

Draco shook his head, giving Severus an odd look, "We do that all the time when we're tired. Did you hear what we were talking about? Is that why it's weird? What did you hear?" He squinted suspiciously at his godfather.

"For Merlin's sake Draco, calm down. I did not hear a thing, and I would not have wanted to. I am referring simply to the way you were sprawled together."

"Bloody hell, will you just get to the point already? I was going to go see Harry tonight and I don't want to be late because you've got your head so far up your own arse that you can't speak."

"Draco! You will not speak to me in such a way!" Snape said loudly, though much more gently than he would, had any other one of his students said the same thing. "My question to you is, would you do, with Mr. Zabini, what you did with Mr. Potter? Sit under a blanket for hours, talking?"

"Of course not!" Draco answered immediately.

"And why not?"

"Because… that would be weird." Draco said, floundering for a response. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, but he knew he would never behave in the same way with Blaise, that he did with Harry. "We're just closer, that's all."

"I see. And Ms. Parkinson? Would you touch her the same way you touch Potter?"

He crinkled his face in thought. "No…"

"Then I am correct in assuming you have a relationship that is not just 'friendly' with Potter."

Draco's heart was beating fast. What was Severus implying? He already knew, and had for awhile, that he and Harry were closer than most people, but he had never considered what Sev was pointing at.

More than friends? That was ridiculous. So ridiculous it was preposterous. There was no way that Harry thought of him as anything more than a friend. Nor did he think of Harry in that way. Hell, he had flings all the time, and it never bothered Harry. He himself thought it was great to hear Harry's scarce stories about the girls he'd been with. They always talked about girls. Girls, not boys, girls.

"I'm not gay."

"I never suggested you were."

"You said I like Harry as 'more than a friend'!"

Severus sighed and stood up, "Draco, I am saying that you should, perhaps, become more aware of what actually goes on between you and Mr. Potter. Merlin knows that Potter is probably no more aware of this than you were before this conversation. I only want, and understand how hard this is for me, that you consider certain possibilities. I am doing this more for your eventual happiness than anything else."

Draco sighed. "Fine, can I please leave now?"

"Yes, of course. Remember what I said, and come speak with me sometime later this week."

Without replying, Draco turned on his heel and exited the dungeons. He hadn't been lying when he said he wanted to visit Harry. The Gryffindor didn't know about it yet, but they were used to popping in on each other so it would not be a problem.

Draco refused to think about what Severus had said. Yes, Harry and he were close, and they didn't have a 'typical' relationship, but that didn't mean they were in love, or whatever it was that Severus was implying. They had been best friends since the beginning of school. Together for six years, seeing each other next to every night and sometimes between classes.

He ignored the little voice in his head, now sounding annoyingly like Severus, which said he and Blaise had been together for six years as well. And slept in the same room, shared the same classes, and mealtimes, and were considered very good friends in their own right.

No, he told himself, he wouldn't think about it. He stretched his neck as he walked, trying to release the residual tension from the visit with his godfather before he saw Harry.

When he reached the Fat Lady, he spoke the password. Probably the only non-Gryffindor to know it.

As he walked into the Common Room, he considered how nobody even blinked as he walked by. He was such a permanent fixture in their space that they almost considered him one of their own.

Guessing that Harry was in his dorm, he made his way upstairs, passing Seamus who was on his way down.



"Is he up there?" he asked, nodding his head in the general direction of the sixth year's room.

"Yeah, Ron's up there too but I think Hermione's blackmailing him to the library soon."

"Okay, thanks."

"See you around."

He opened the door to Harry's room at the exact moment Ron reached for the handle on the other side. As the door opened in, it hit Ron, who went toppling over. In typical male fashion, Ron hurried to his feet and, brushing himself off, pretended nothing had happened even as Harry laughed.

"Hey Draco, I'm obviously just leaving. Try not to get Harry into too much trouble, yeah?"

Draco laughed, knowing it was usually Harry's idea to go snooping where they shouldn't, but smoothed over Ron's worry anyway, "No problem. See you."

The door shut behind Ron and, as usual, Draco went over to sit on Harry's bed, facing him, with his back against the headboard.

"So what's up, I didn't know you were coming," said Harry, not looking too upset about the fact.

"I was just talking to Sev and I needed to calm down a little. Let's not do much tonight, I'm in the mood to relax a little."

Harry's face dropped in concern and he moved a little closer to Draco, though they were still across the bed from each other. "What's wrong? Do you want to talk about what happened with Snape? I swear to Merlin, if he's the one who upset you…" he trailed off, his threat obvious.

"No I don't really want to talk about it – it was stupid. It's not important enough to be upset over, but he said some things that are bothering me."

Harry, who was not used to having Draco keep things from him, didn't know what to do. He wasn't good at comforting people in the first place, but when it was someone as important to him as Draco, he was at a loss. Usually, Draco would vent and get it all out of this system so Harry had never really had to do anything at all. This time was obviously different.

"Okay well… do you want to help me with my potions essay? That can never hurt, right?"

This got a smile out of Draco. "Harry, you're so hopeless. I always help you. What's going to happen once you're out in the real world, and you have an assignment you don't understand?"

Harry raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Well then I'll floo you. Trust me; I have a whole system worked out in my mind."

Draco smiled back, the thought of seeing Harry regularly after graduation making him inexplicably happy.



"So is that a 'yes' on my potions essay?" Harry looked at him hopefully.

"Ugh," Draco sighed, "Yes, let's get on with it then."

They assumed their standard position of homework completion, lying next to each other, heads at the foot of the bed, pillows under their elbows and books splayed out in front of them.

They both knew that Draco didn't really mind helping him all that much, but just put on a show so that Harry would help him with DADA work. Actually, Draco thought as he explained the properties of stewed horned slugs, it was kind of nice having Harry hang on to his every word and admire him for his skills in Potions.

Because, he quickly added in his mind, it was nice to be admired. Not because it was Harry, no! He would like teaching anybody about potions. Not that he had ever taught Blaise or Pansy… or Ron or Hermione.

"Draco? What the hell are you talking about?" Harry's confused voice interrupted his explanation and thoughts. "Why can't I do this? It makes sense when you explain it, but I know for a fact, and my tests prove, that I can't do any of it on my own."

"Don't try to memorize everything, try to understand it. There's way too much to remember so it's better if you can logic it out on a test. You seem to already know what reactions take place when certain kinds of magic are combined, so apply that to what is happening here. You know how you can't accio something that has been petrified because of the conflicting motives in the magic? In potions, you can't add dried nettles to sneezewort because one's sole purpose is to lower the acidity and the other's is to raise it. If you're trying to make a Boil-Cure Potion, then you want low acidity. You add dried nettles."

Harry had the look of one enlightened. "Why the hell doesn't Snape just say that? I guarantee that half the class would be getting at least one grade higher."

"Yes well that wouldn't do Snape much good now, would it? He wants us to understand it for ourselves, not have it spoon fed."

Harry pouted, "I like having things in potions spoon fed. Learning for ourselves should be left to spells."

They flipped themselves over on the bed, so their heads were on the pillows, instead of their elbows, and lay still, starring at the canopy.

After a comfortable silence, Harry asked, "Are you sure you don't want to talk about what was going on with Snape?"

Draco smiled, "No, I really don't want to, but thanks." He reached over and pinched Harry's cheek teasingly.

"Ah," said Harry, unperturbed by the cheek pinching, "What would you do without me?"

"What would you do without me? You've already planned to keep me on call after graduation so I can do your assignments for you!" Draco replied, indignantly.

"Aw, Drakey-Poo!" cooed Harry. "That's not the only reason I'll call you when we're older, I promise. I'll probably need a call boy or something like that, at the rate my love life is going."

Draco smiled at him, not knowing what to say. What would normally be banter between them had taken on a whole new meaning because of Severus. Stupid Severus.

He sat up, now uncomfortable with the conversation. "Hey, I think I'll leave now," he said, deeply upset that he couldn't bear to hang out with Harry like they always did.

He sat up next to Draco and turned to face him. "What's wrong? You keep saying you don't want to talk about it, but it's obviously bothering you. What?"

"Harry, leave it, I said it wasn't important," he said, slipping his shoes on.

"Draco," he said, grabbing his arm and preventing him from moving. "What's going on, and why won't you tell me?"

"Let go of me, I just want to leave, nothing's wrong," he said, disproving what he said, even as he was saying it, when he twisted his arm out of Harry's grasp angrily.

Harry could only watch helplessly from the bed as Draco stalked out of the room, without a glance back.

What had just happened?

OOOoooOOO

Alright soooo, not to sound pushy, but please review! Love hearing what you think!! Hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.

And yes, my heart hurt a little at the end making Draco mad at Harry, but he's so damned stubborn…

Oh, one last thing. The boy-love… Yeah, obviously that didn't happen in this chapter. Sorry about that. I had no idea this storyline would take me that much space to get out. I was originally going to divide the chapter into two like I usually do, but this was long! So anyway, what is my point through all this long-winded rambling? Boy-love will be in the next chapter! And that's a promise.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Um, YES I updated quickly!! And for no particular reason either (other than people asking me never to take that long again…)! This is what I was going to have happen last chapter, so you understand that it would have been quite a long chapter, and would have also taken that much longer to get out. Anyway, thank you all for the pretty reviews. I love you all. Really, I mean that.

By the way, this entire chapter feels like one big soap opera to me. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing because this is a romance story... but… well, you'll see. Let's just hope it's a good soap opera, right? Not one that you cringe at and can't bear to watch for longer than it takes to flick away from (can you tell I'm not a fan).

OOOoooOOO

Remus sighed and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands as he stood outside Sirius' front door. He had just been at Hogwarts, speaking with Albus about rejoining the Order. Albus, it seemed, was not keen on his involvement. Remus had experienced this during the last war as well, because it seemed some unnamed members of the Order were uncomfortable with a werewolf in their midst. Go figure.

He was looking forward to having a relaxing evening with Sirius. Maybe they could go out for a drink or two. After all, arguing with the ever elusive Headmaster for an hour would make anyone want a drink.

He shoved the door open and kicked off his shoes. His eyes slid over the extra pair of shoes at the door without really registering what he was seeing. Had he, Remus would probably not have walked all over the house looking for his friend. He would have either announced himself, or left. As it was, the first place he checked was Sirius' bedroom.

What he found both aroused and horrified him. There was a nearly naked Sirius sprawled haphazardly on his own bed, with a lean, sandy blonde man straddling his lower legs. The blonde was massaging his friends' boxer-covered hips and was dangerously near the tent in the material. Blood pulsed to Remus' own cock.

The werewolf's kneejerk reaction was to slam to door in shock. With the door closed, he didn't entirely know what he should be doing, and, upon deciding that doing absolutely nothing would be the least offensive, did just that.

This was how Sirius found him not thirty seconds later, emerging from the room in nothing but his boxers.

"Merlin Rem, I'm so sorry. Why didn't you knock?" Sirius really did look guilty and he obviously hadn't known that he would be coming over, so Remus let it go, trying to be casual.

"Don't worry about it Padfoot, it's not like I'm completely innocent, although you should probably be a little more careful when Harry comes back for the break."

Sirius' face fell. "I know, I know. I couldn't bear it if he saw something like that."

There was silence between them while Sirius tried to smooth his boxers down and Remus tried very very hard to picture something other than a naked and aroused Sirius beneath him.



Remus finally cleared his throat. "Actually, we should probably talk about that. Your, ahem, 'habits' aren't quite as inconspicuous as I'm sure you'd like to think, you realize?" He raised an eyebrow.

Sirius coloured. "Does it make you uncomfortable?" 

Remus snorted nonchalantly. "It's your house, Siri. If I walk in unannounced, I should be ready for whatever I might see. I am sorry, though, for walking in on you. Where did your date go, by the way?"

"Oh." Sirius frowned. "I don't know actually. I sort of just walked out…" He opened the door to his room, finding it empty, although there was a little spilled floo powder by the fireplace.

"All for the better, I suppose. I couldn't remember his name. That would have been a bit embarrassing later on," Sirius shrugged.

The look Remus unintentionally shot at Sirius could only be interpreted as disgust and the latter shrunk away. "What?" he asked, seeming hurt.

"You can't even remember the name of the man you were about to shag?" he shouted.

Sirius spluttered. "Well… can you remember all the names of the people you've slept with?"

"Sirius!" Remus cried.

"What?"

"Of course I can! I've slept with significantly fewer people than you have, I'm happy to admit. I know not only their names, but their favourite books, favourite foods, ambitions in life…" he sighed exasperatedly. "Did you even take that man out to dinner before bringing him back here?" Remus wasn't completely aware that he was still talking. These things had bugged him for years. He knew Sirius didn't often 'date' his dates, and it was more a night of fucking than anything else.

Sirius looked very cowed, "No." He backed into the wall and slid down to the floor, knees at his chest. "He didn't really give me the chance, he just invited himself over."

Remus surveyed him. "You know, you don't have to fuck everything that offers."

The animagus winced at the harsh words and his hand jumped to his hair in a gesture reminiscent of James Potter. "It's just hard… waiting."

"Waiting for what, Sirius?" Remus said, his irritation finally getting the better of him, "Maybe if you dated these guys instead of screwing them and never seeing them again, it might go somewhere. Exactly what are you waiting for?"

"For something I can't have…" Sirius muttered this so quietly that he could only hear it thanks to his wolf-like senses.

More curious than mad now, Remus asked, "And what is that?"



Sirius shook his head, bits of soft black hair falling into his face. "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

Remus sighed. "Of course it matter Padfoot, it's you. If nothing else, that's reason enough for me to care. Now tell me. What are you waiting for, and is it really worth using all these men? Is it even making you happy?"

"No, it's not," Sirius' heart ached to tell his friend the truth but, he had decided long ago, that he would prefer to have him as only a friend, than to not have him in his life at all.

"Then what would make you happy?" he pushed.

Sirius said nothing, only starred back at his friend. Remus thought that there was maybe a desperate quality to his stare. Sirius broke eye contact before too long and starred down at his lap.

"You must have some idea of what you want," Remus said encouragingly.

He nodded his head, though still not raising his eyes. "I have a very good idea of what would make me happy, but I can't have it. I wouldn't even ask." He looked back up at the sandy blonde with sad eyes.

Remus swallowed hard. Oh Merlin. He didn't know what to think. Harry's letter weighed heavily on his mind. The letter itself wasn't clear enough to actually prove anything between them, but the conversation was starting to make him believe it. He prayed dearly that it wasn't just wishful thinking that was making him see things that weren't there.

"What if you didn't have to ask?" Remus kneeled down next to Sirius. "What if everything could just fall into place?"

Sirius snorted sardonically. "Remus, you have no idea what you're talking about."

"Maybe I know more than you think I do," Remus said, trying to infuse confidence into the words. He honestly had no idea where he was going with that comment, or any of the preceding ones, but his mindset was crash-and-burn.

Fear crept into Sirius' eyes as he surveyed Remus, trying to figure out if he knew as much as he was letting on.

"Do you? Then why don't you help me fix my problem, then?" he said sarcastically, obviously not believing Remus knew what he was talking about.

Remus' body, acting seemingly of its own accord, shifted. He saw Sirius moving closer and closer, before realizing it was actually himself who was moving. Leaning closer, eyes dropping to the others lips, hand cupping his neck.

Wait, Remus' brain screamed at him. Wait, not good, not good! Warning bells were echoing off the corners of his skull, but his body didn't seem to want to listen.



Sirius hadn't pulled away yet and, to Remus' addled brain, that signalled a go-ahead. He was so close now that he could feel his friend's breath, warm and moist, tickling his lips. He could smell the lost arousal from before, sweat combined with Sirius' always unique and always perfect scent.

If Remus had been taken by the sensations before their lips touched, it was nothing to the actual physical ecstasy of contact. As their lips met, Remus could feel his chest clench, hurting his lungs and heart, his lower stomach tighten in excitement and anticipation. There were no thoughts of rejection, of the possibility of their ruined friendship, or of later consequences.

Their lips brushed once more and ended with Remus' tongue slipping slyly into its partner's mouth. He heard and felt Sirius moan against it, and moaned himself when his tongue found Sirius', wet and pliant.

Remus was on cloud nine. Hell, he would have been on cloud fifteen if they had gone that high. He couldn't imagine a better feeling in the world. It was everything he had dreamt about for years and years. It was just as good as the build-up had been. Every dream and fantasy he had ever had about his friend were in the process of being reawakened in his mind.

Then, without warning, they were thumped back down as Sirius jerked away from the kiss. So violently, in fact, that he smacked his head against the wall behind him with a resonating crack.

As Sirius tried to shake the birds from his vision, his thoughts raced. "Why… why did you kiss me?" he asked, questioning Remus' intentions. He did not want to allow himself to become too swept up in the kiss before he knew why it was happening. One moment longer and he would have taken Remus, thrown him onto the bed and had his sweet way with him. If Remus was just trying to make him feel better, granted, in a very misguided way, he didn't want to allow his hopes to soar just quite yet.

Remus was clearly misunderstanding his question, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

"What?" he asked, his face a picture of horror. Remus glanced around alarmed for a moment before leaping to his feet and sprinting out of the room.

"Remus!" cried Sirius, leaping to his feet, but wobbling thanks, in part to the kiss, but mostly to the bang on the head.

Unable to run after him, he stood at the doorway and cringed when he heard the front door slam. With nothing else to do, he walked over to his bed, slowly feeling his way along the wall.

He flopped into bed and let out a gentle cry as his head hit the pillow. Pain spiked through his entire head and neck, stemming down to his lower back. He was afraid to move, in case he made it worse. It was obvious that he had hit his head harder than he had originally thought.

As it was, he lay silently and immobile, thinking about what a huge mistake he had just made by kissing Remus. Possibly ruining his best friendship and knocking his head all within about thirty seconds. Perhaps a record for him. Excluding of course, he considered, the time he had told Snape where Moony was.

Never once did it enter his mind that it hadn't been he who had initiated the kiss, but Remus.



OOOoooOOO

An unexpected 'pop' announced Remus' arrival to his empty living room. He immediately set anti-apparition wards around his apartment. They hadn't been up in so long that he was surprised he remembered the proper casting for them. Typically, he only set them when he had 'special' company so that Sirius wouldn't drop by unexpectedly.

Sirius.

He ran an agitated hand through his hair.

Why had that happened? Why had he let it happen? More importantly, why had he initiated it?

The sad truth was that he couldn't stand to see Sirius upset and was apparently willing to do just about anything – including completely overstepping the boundaries of their longstanding friendship – to cheer him up.

Why had he kissed him? Even in his least impressive moods, Remus didn't act recklessly. Something had happened. He racked his brain, trying to shove away the panic and fear of rejection. What had they been talking about?

Ah yes. Sirius' relationships, what else? And Sirius had started talking about what he wanted… what he couldn't have.

I wouldn't even ask… And then he had starred at Remus.

Well no wonder, he thought angrily. If that wasn't an opening, what was? On the other hand…

Sirius had never actually mentioned any names when talking about who he wanted. He could have been talking about someone else, for all Remus knew. Maybe it was someone really inappropriate who had nothing to do with Remus. Maybe it was just a man he had been talking to at a café recently or something…

Remus groaned. And of course he would have responded to the kiss. He had been in a very vulnerable position, not only because he apparently couldn't have what he wanted, but because he had interrupted him from a very heated snogging session. Hell, Sirius had probably still been turned on from earlier when they kissed. That thought brought a bitter taste to Remus' mouth.

Finally, Remus lamented, Sirius had pushed him away from the kiss. That, if nothing else, proved the utter blunder of his actions.

Remus sighed and collapsed on the couch. What was he going to do?

OOOoooOOO

After you review :D:D, go check out the poll on my author page. It's about Draco or Harry topping in a relationship and since you guys are the ones reading, I figure it's good to have your opinions.



By the way, I'll point out that this chapter starts and ends the same way – with a sad Remus. :( Sorry


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: An UPDATE!? No way! You have to be kidding me!

-Clears throat- Yes okay, I may have been dead to the world for awhile there. Real life has been blowing me recently and everything is changing (including me moving away soon and trying to get everything in order). Oh, speaking of which, I won't be posting for awhile in September because of the move. But I swear to you now, that you will never again have to wait so long for an update. I'm never abandoning this story even if I end up loathing it (which I really can't see...) so don't worry about that. I'm completely ashamed of my lack of updating.

By the way, you have a reviewer named 'Penny' to thank for this update. She reminded me that ... well, this story was still HERE for one thing and told me she was still reading. Means a lot to me, that you actually follow it haha. Thank you Penny! (And of course, all you other beautiful, lovely, intelligent, funny, wonderful... amazing reviewers!!)

FINALLY, on with the show!

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

"I really don't know, he just stormed out of here."

"Did he say anything before he left?"

"But wasn't he just with Harry?"

Draco Malfoy had just swept out of the room, robe billowing and snarl decorating his face. The occupants of the room were flabbergasted as they had never seen him look anything more unpleasant than conniving. Especially after a visit with Harry.

Ginny and Hermione had taken it upon themselves to pressure Ron into going upstairs and checking on the situation, but he wasn't having it.

"Mione, Ginny, as much as I love you both," Hermione blushed, "we don't know who upset who. If Harry can upset Draco that much, I don't want to see the mood he's in. Or if they've fought... Can you imagine?"

Harry and Draco's relationship had always been seen by the school as untouchable. If something had touched it, Ron didn't want to know.

"Ron," said Ginny, not ready to take no for an answer, "he's much more likely to want to talk to you than us right now. What if he needs you? Are you going to let him sit there all alone because you're afraid of your friend?" She shot him a look of insistence, inherited from her mother.

"She's right, Ron. He probably needs you if he's had a falling out with Draco. He must need someone to listen," Hermione joined in.

Ron heaved a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes but started towards the staircase all the same.

"You guys owe me for this. I know it's just because you're scared of him too."

He heard the girls chuckle in agreement but kept going until he had reached the door to his room. He knocked cautiously, not sure of what to expect. He knew they were just poking fun at each other and they weren't really afraid of Harry, but it was slightly unnerving even so.

He heard a grumble from behind the door and took that as the invitation it mostly likely wasn't meant to be. He pushed the door open and instantly saw a morose Harry sitting on his bed. His friend glanced up when he entered and acknowledged him with a nod of his head but then went straight back to playing with a loose string on his sheet.

"Hey mate," Ron said when it became obvious Harry wasn't offering anything up.

"Hey."

"So... we saw Draco leave in a tizzy. Is everything all right?"

Harry sighed loudly and suddenly. "You know, I really have no idea."

"Oh. Well, what happened?" Ron asked, still walking on eggshells as he didn't want to upset Harry any more than he was already.

"Again, I'm not really sure. I can't exactly remember what we were talking about before he started getting huffy, but it wasn't anything unusual. He was upset already because of Snape but... I hadn't done anything when he suddenly got pissed."

Ron frowned. "What's the greasy git done this time? He and Draco usually get on, don't they?"

"Well yeah," Harry joined his frown, "he wouldn't actually tell me why he was upset though."

"That's strange for him, isn't it? I thought you told each other pretty much anything."

"So did I. I don't know, I guess it was private." Harry's frown deepened, as though he couldn't possibly imagine what could be private between the two of them. Ron couldn't imagine what either. It seemed they talked about everything under the sun, with the amount of time they spent together.

Draco had actually been a cause of jealousy for Ron in first and second year before he had finally accepted their friendship. He had felt as though he should have been Harry's best friend but it hadn't happened and he had moved on. Obviously, they were still fairly close but Ron tended to have more close friends than best friends. He could, however, count Hermione in the latter category.

Forcing his mind back to the current mess, he sat down next to Harry.

"Look, you said he was already upset, maybe it was just bothering him a little more than he had let on before. Why else would he snap, you guys always get along. I don't know why he wouldn't tell you, but he must have had a good reason. He doesn't hide things from you – we both know that."

He looked to Harry and noticed that even though his head was still down, he looked a lot better.

"I know you're right it's just... Merlin I hate him!" Harry cursed, already starting to smile.

Ron rolled his eyes and smiled back, "I know. Who doesn't, though? He is a Slytherin after all. Evil and whatnot."

Harry snorted at his friend repeating the stereotype. "Well they live in the dungeons! How good do you expect them to be?" 

"And with Snape as their Head of House... and Draco's godfather..." Ron shook his head. "Let me express my amazement that I don't loathe every Slytherin I've ever met, particularly Draco."

Still laughing, Harry and Ron made their ways to their respective beds. It was a little early for sleep but Harry had had a trying day and Ron still wasn't comfortable leaving him alone, afraid he would start to wallow in misery again.

They got dressed in silence, facing away from each other as usual and they had just gotten cosy in bed when Harry sat up, appearing alarmed.

Ron quickly followed suit, "What? What is it?"

Harry groaned and buried his face in his hands in despair. "I just remembered – I have Occlumency again tomorrow."

Ron laughed heartily and flopped back down onto his bed.

O0O0O0O0O0O

The next morning, Harry awoke feeling refreshingly awake. He hadn't had a really decent night's sleep in awhile primarily because he was always with Draco at night.

Despite what Ron might think, he had actually been a great help to him the night before, reminding him that Snape had already upset his godson and he had probably been more tightly wound than he had let on. This thought resting on his mind, he made his way, not unhappily, down to the Great Hall for breakfast. None of his friends had woken as of yet, what with it being a Saturday but he was perfectly content to be with himself at the moment. He might even run into Draco and talk things out.

Sure enough, Draco was in the Great Hall. Harry had just assumed that he would follow his ridiculous early morning schedule, and he was right. It seemed, Harry thought, that no matter how much sleep Draco got, he was always obnoxiously cheerful in the mornings. They could have gone to bed at five am, but sure enough, seven am would come and he would leap out of bed, ready for the day. This was in sharp contrast to Harry who, if you let him, would happily start his day at two in the afternoon.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he saw blond hair moving in his peripheral vision. He had long ago trained himself to notice Draco in a room.

Harry leapt from his seat at the nearly empty Gryffindor table and rushed to intercept him at the doors.

"Hey, what's up?" Harry asked, leaning against the door just as Draco tried to open it, effectively cutting him off.

Draco's face pulled into a pained expression, one Harry had rarely seen. The blonde was usually careful with his facial expressions in public, knowing what flattered and what distorted.

"Listen..." Draco started, seeming to hope that Harry would cut him off. Harry, however, was far too interested in what his friend was going to say to do any such thing. "Sorry for yesterday," he continued reluctantly, "I had a lot on my mind and I was still angry with Snape."

Harry shrugged and nodded his acceptance of the apology. That much, he had already figured. He was hoping that Draco would share what Snape had done or said but that would have to wait. For now, he was just happy to be speaking to his best friend again after a stressful night. Before he could suggest any morning activities for them, Draco pulled one of his own out.

"Do you want to play a seeker's game? You wouldn't know," he smirked, "but the field is really nice this time of day."

Harry lightly punched his arm for his efforts and agreed.

"Give me ten minutes to get my broom and gloves and I'll meet you back down here, okay?" Draco sighed in relief as Harry accepted his apology. To nod his acceptance was one thing, but to agree to spend, what would turn into the day, together was better. He had been horrified with his behaviour once back in the safety of his dungeons last night.

So maybe Snape had a point. He had finally conceded at some point last night that maybe, just maybe, he could harbour feelings for Harry that surpassed friendship or brotherhood. It was the rush he had felt when Harry suggested he be his call boy after Hogwarts.

Before he could have laughed at that, accepting it for the joke it was, but now things had changed. For him, at least. He cursed Severus' already tarnished name for seeing what he hadn't.

He had noticed Harry's form before, stared into his jade eyes, and admired the rosy glow of his cheeks. Before, he had considered that simple appreciation. Now he could see that the flips his stomach made weren't from a girl walking past or the turkey pot pie from supper, but from what was simply Harry.

He was still coming to terms with that but at least he was on his way. When he finally had, he had no idea what that would mean, or what would change, but he wasn't ready to think about that either.

Through his thoughts, he had returned to his room to gather his supplies for the game and returned, only to find Harry waiting for him, seemingly barely controlling himself from bouncing on spot. Evidently, he was happy the fight was over as well.

Harry smiled, "Ready to have your arse handed to you?"

Draco smiled back, his eyes shining. "Ready."

O0O0O0O0O0O

Ron had woken up to Harry's trunk slamming shut as he retrieved something or other. He had croaked out a short, "M'rning," and watched as Harry left to a place that Ron wasn't able to process that early. Unfortunately for Ron, he wasn't able to go back to sleep and therefore met up with Hermione on her way down to breakfast.

"Well, aren't you up early?" She said, grabbing his hand in hers.

"Yeah well that's thanks to Harry, the git." He moaned, still rubbing at his eyes.

"Oh, he's up? Is he showering? Why didn't we wait for him?"

"Stop bombarding me with questions this early in the morning," he said, "and he's been up for a while, I gather. He was just getting something from his trunk when he woke me up."

"Oh, I wonder if he's made up with Draco? You know he goes down for breakfast early, maybe he was trying to catch him," she said, obviously thinking hard about her friends.

Ron rolled his eyes. "I don't know. We'll find out eventually. Can we just go eat?"

O0O0O0O0O0O

Sirius passed a rough night all thanks Remus. At least, that's how he saw it. If his friend hadn't kissed him, he would never have been confused, never would have jerked his head back into his own wall, and most importantly, he would be asleep right now.

He tossed and turned as well as he could without moving his neck, which, as he soon realized, was more an exercise of twitching his legs every so often. Due more to exhaustion than anything else, he was finally able to fall asleep and morning saw a slightly less tender Sirius Black.

He rolled over without checking the time but guessed by the position of the sun that it was fairly late morning. He sat up, bringing his arms to his neck and rubbing gently, trying to work out the knots. He wondered vaguely why he was so stiff before he stopped cold, his mind working furiously.

Remus finding him with what's-his-name, nearly giving up his secret to his best friend, the kiss, the bump on the head, the restless night... The kiss? Sirius stood up quickly, wobbling a bit as his tired blood moved through him. As he steadied out, a small smile grew on his face. He rushed around the room as quickly as he could while still favouring his neck and gathered some clothes together. He didn't need to look presentable but he found himself preening in the mirror all the same. A quick flick of his hair, and a smoothing out of his shirt and he was ready. He was going to sort out what was going on, in typical jump-first Gryffindor fashion.

He was going to see Remus

O0O0O0O0O

Harry laughed as Draco flailed on his broom, just as he pulled out of a spin obviously meant to impress.

"Very smooth Mister Malfoy. Next time, you might want to grip the broom a little tighter."

Draco blushed, not only for the failed attempt but also because of Harry's choice of words. In the past hours, he had been finding Harry's usual banter to be incredibly sexual, whether he meant it or not. His head was in the clouds and his cock seemed to be doing the thinking for him. Every little thing, it seemed, could be taken sexually. He had never noticed before.

Intrigued by his discovery, he failed to pay attention when Harry found the snitch and started chasing after it.

"Hey Draco, you coming or not?" He yelled back, when it became obvious the blonde was not behind him.

"Coming?" Draco choked out, not following Harry's question, and instead focussing on his word choice again.

"Yeah... what are you doing? You've been cocking up all day. Is that Snape thing still both-"

Harry stopped abruptly.

"Shit! Bloody fuck, I completely forgot. Draco, I have Occlumency! Why can't I remember? You'd think I'd dread it enough but apparently not."

Harry was still questioning his sanity aloud as his rode his broom towards the school, shouting a good-bye to Draco before he was out of range.

Draco still hadn't moved from his broom, not having recovered from hearing Harry say 'cock'.

O0O0O0O0O0O

Well there you have it. A chapter! –Presents it proudly – Hope you guys enjoyed reading and hope you leave a little comment (unless you absolutely hated it... but why would you read to chapter 13 if you hated it?)


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: So I'm doing something a little new in this chapter, perspective wise. You might not notice, I'm not sure how obvious it will be but I liked doing it, so whatever :D By the way, this is the longest chapter in this story, so yay! At least I'm giving you something good. You have less to complain about :)

PS – I went to Broadway with some friends and saw Equus!! To those of you who don't know what that is, look it up! I'm big on theatre and I can safely saw that Dan's acting was superb and the entire play was just riveting. Totally worth it.

OOOoooOOO

Harry slid into the Snape's office with a third of a second to spare, according to his watch. Though apparently, his watch was out of sync with Snape's.

"You're late, Mister Potter."

"I'm sorry Professor, I got caught up with Draco," Harry said, having the grace to look bashful.

"I don't particularly care where you were Potter. Let's get started, shall we?" As always, he didn't wait for an answer before pointing his wand and shouting the incantation.

"Legilimens!"

*Draco stalking out of the room, angry over his visit with Snape; laughing at Draco when after he nearly fell from his broom; seeing Draco in breakfast that morning and feeling his heart jump.*

They both picked themselves up off the floor. Harry had actually been the one to end it that time. Perhaps, he allowed himself to hope, he was getting better.

"Have you noticed that a remarkable number of your thoughts centre around Mister Malfoy?" Snape asked once they had recovered themselves.

"Well... He is my best friend so I guess that would make sense," Harry said, injecting sarcasm into an answer that seemed obvious.

"Indeed. Legilimens!"

*Remus' letter to him; he and Draco sitting in class together, snickering quietly at something the professor had said; he and Hermione talking about what to get Draco and Ron for Christmas, respectively.*

Harry couldn't end the connection this time, and had had to wait for Snape to retreat. It was only him picking himself up this time.

"Do try and defend yourself, Potter," Snape sneered.

'He wants me to defend myself?' Harry thought, angry at the snide remark. 'Alright'.

The next time Snape raised his wand, Harry was ready with his own by his side.

"Legilimens!"

"Protego!"

It happened so quickly that neither was really sure how to stop it. Snape had been caught completely off guard, not expecting such a manoeuvre from the Boy Who Lived, and Harry... Harry didn't realize what was happening until it was too late. Not that the knowledge would have stopped him.

*His Godson coming to talk to him about Harry's lessons, talking to him about their relationship – maybe they were more than friends, the curious look in Draco's eye, even through his denial. *

Harry was forcibly thrown out of his professor's head as they both, once again, fell to the floor. There was a strange air permeating the room. Snape was clearly furious at the invasion but there was also some measure of satisfaction. Harry was feeling downright shocked, both at Draco's reaction and at the fact that Snape would have that conversation with him.

"Um..." Harry stuttered awkwardly. "I'll just be leaving, then." He scrambled off the floor and practically ran out of the room before he could be stopped.

He ran up the stairs until he came to the Gryffindor portrait, at which time he collapsed. Running through Hogwarts was no small feat.

He sat, simply thinking. He was far less disturbed than he thought he ought to be. After all, he had just heard some pretty stirring evidence that his best friend held a romantic interest in him.

Granted, that wasn't coming out of nowhere. He had heard Snape's explanation and proof of why he thought this, and even Harry had to admit, it did seem that way. He wouldn't act with Ron as he did with Draco. They would certainly, to use Snape's example, never cuddle on a couch. However that was exactly how Draco and he spent most of their nights together. Which, to be fair, were most nights.

So what if their relationship was closer than most people's? So what if there was a touch of romantic feeling between them? Of course, he couldn't be sure that Draco felt anything at all, he could only be sure how he felt.

So now, to figure out how he felt.

Harry sighed. He liked Draco. He did. He really, really did. How much? More than he liked Ron, obviously. But strangely, he also liked him in a very different way. Other than Draco, he felt roughly the same about all of his friends. They were nice to be around, comfortable, and genuine. The feelings were very mellow and cheerful.

His feelings for Draco were slightly different. When they weren't together, he missed him. No matter how long they had been together, the moment he left, Harry felt as though he were missing a part of himself. His feelings towards him were very intense. He loved him – he did. He loved being around him, he loved his jokes, he loved the way it felt when they were curled up together, he loved Draco for everything he was.

Did that mean he was in love with him?

Eager for a change in scenery to clear his thoughts, Harry stood up and entered the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Hey Harry," said Draco, looking up from his work.

Harry faltered. It wasn't unheard of to find Draco in their Common Room, it was in fact, a regular occurrence. To find him here alone, however, was somewhat more rare.

"Hey, where's everybody else?"

"Most of them decided to go out for the day. I don't really know why nobody else is in here, though," he trailed off, probably realizing that it was a bit strange.

Uncaring, Harry traversed the room and sat next to him. "What are you working on?"

"Defence. Why else would I be here?" he asked, smirking.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Right, sorry. How could I forget my duties?"

He helped the blonde with his work for the next half hour, until Draco had an outline made up and a very clear idea of how to proceed.

"Thanks man, we're even," Draco said, cracking his fingers and settling his arm around Harry's shoulders. They leaned back, basking in the nearly finished work.

"I love Saturdays," Harry said before they fell into silence.

OOOoooOOO

Draco stared straight ahead, his arm around Harry's shoulders. He wouldn't risk glancing down.

He hated Severus for this. Draco could have lived many more years in either denial or ignorance, which is would have been, he couldn't say. But now... Now every time he looked at his friend, held his friend or even thought about him, he was swept away in thoughts of love instead of the safe and easy friendship of two months ago.

It was hard to believe his perspective had changed so drastically but so really in just two months. And Harry. He wasn't even inclined in that way. They hadn't kept one secret from each other from the time they had met. Their first kiss, their first flunking grade, even their first wank. There was no way Harry would have kept something as big as his sexual orientation from him.

He felt Harry shift in his arms, getting more comfortable. They hadn't spoken much over the past few minutes, but that was normal – expected, even. They spent so much of their days together that there wasn't always something new to talk about and they would simply settle for being in each other's presence.

Maybe, Draco considered, there was a chance that Harry liked him back. He had considered this many times and had yet to reach a conclusion. Harry hadn't dated much, or even at all, in the past few years, and, as much as Draco hated to admit it, Severus was right. They were a lot closer than more friends, even ones who lived together. He had never seen Harry act with anybody else the way he did with Draco.

But even if Harry did feel the same way, and they admitted it to each other, even if they started to date – here Draco cringed. He couldn't imagine 'dating' Harry. That word had always held the somewhat negative connotation of trying to get into a girl's pants, with him. But even if they started to 'date', where would it lead? Would he lose his best friend, the only person he was truly and completely comfortable with? Draco wouldn't be able to bear that. He would rather live with the crushing lust and sometimes overwhelming love he felt for Harry.

To an outside party, he knew this would seem like a decision. It would seem like he had made up his mind and could begin to gather his resolve in defence of his choice. Draco knew better. He knew that if the time ever came, the moment Harry decided he wanted him, he would fall to his knees in service.

No pun intended.

Not that, he had to remind himself, Harry would ever want him. He had to keep focus. Realistically, the choice he had just made was worthless because it would never come to that. He would remain friends with Harry, nothing more, and would thank Merlin every day that he could be allowed even that.

"What's wrong?"

He looked down to Harry, a mistake, he realized too late. The boy's green eyes were sharp with concern and he was a lot closer than Draco would have allowed otherwise.

"What are you talking about?"

"You looked a little upset," Harry said, glancing from eye to the other, trying to decipher the blonde's mood.

Harry was so close. Close enough that Draco could feel warm breath brushing lightly along his jaw, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention.

'He's your friend', said a voice of reason, buried deep in his conscious thought. 'Remember what you had decided.' But at the moment, Draco couldn't remember his earlier reasoning. Life was all about taking chances, wasn't it? So shouldn't he grab the broom by the handle? Would he regret it if he didn't at least find out how Harry felt? Surely once Harry shot him down, the awkward feelings would only take weeks to pass. They could be back to this easy friendship in a month's time, with no regrets.

Mind made up and hormones raging, Draco leaned forward, advancing no more than an inch. At the distance they were currently at, however, an inch was made obvious.

Draco's heart cracked when Harry leaned back, retreating the distance the blonde had just advanced, confusion wrinkling his face.

"What?" Harry asked, with an uncomfortable smile.

Draco, for the first time in years, felt himself colour in a blush. "What? Nothing." He had to close to eyes for a moment in an effort to compose. When he reopened his eyes, Harry was closer.

It was his turn to ask, "What?"

"Nothing," Harry copied.

He then quickly, faster than Draco could entirely process in his state of mind, leaned in and pecked his lips against Draco's. It was fleeting, but the blonde knew he would never forget the soft, pliant lips under his, nor the violent and almost painfully strong jerk in his stomach.

When Draco's eyes refocused, they only settled on one thing. Harry's vulnerable face. He had turned quite pink, probably matching Draco.

"Sorry," Harry choked out before attempting to leave his resting place by Draco's side. Draco would have none of this, and grabbed him around the waist, preventing any further attempts.

"For what, exactly?" Draco asked before leaning in once more.

Now that he knew the Gryffindor was not totally opposed to this idea, and seemed to care enough to initiate a kiss, there was less on the line. It seemed that Harry wanted this, so why couldn't he? He would work on an exit strategy later, if and when it was called for.

For now, he just wanted to enjoy his Harry.

As his lips touched down on Harry's once again, his heart soared. His stomach was still lurching violently within but it had become a pleasant feeling, and was slowly moving south. He felt Harry freeze the second Draco kissed him but he slowly, oh so slowly, started to move against him. Draco moaned. It wasn't supposed to feel this good. Nothing was supposed to feel this good. This wasn't a guarantee, it wasn't a sure thing.

But despite that, the sheer volume of feeling and emotion that Draco experienced as Harry's lips moved against his was overpowering. He knew he shouldn't get attached to the feeling but it was impossible not to.

Unable to stop himself, Draco opened his lips against Harry's, hoping to Merlin that they would follow. They did and the next thing he knew, Draco's tongue was being readily accepted into his friend's mouth. The moment their tongues touched, Harry echoed Draco's earlier moan, which, on its own, elicited a whimper from the blonde.

The kiss grew bolder as he became lost in it, forgetting any consequences. He felt Harry's hands root themselves into his hair, holding his head in place. Not that they were needed to hold him there. He grabbed hold of Harry's waist, pulling him towards his own body. He felt Harry's legs separate and in the next moment, he was being straddled by his best friend, as they kissed deeply.

It crossed his mind that it was strange not having a delicate girl on top of him. This was a change – though not an unwelcome one. He could feel the power in Harry's body, a body every bit as broad and muscled as his own. This thought sparked his hands into motion once more. Draco ran his palms up from Harry's waist, feeling his tensed lats.

He broke the kiss, allowing them both to suck in the much needed oxygen, before kissing his way down Harry's neck, pausing to pay more attention to certain bits.

Harry moaned again, breathing deeply and ran his hands along Draco's neck and up into his hair once again.

Draco would never know what prompted Harry, it could have been anything from his own hands, which were rubbing his back rhythmically through his shirt, to the mere position they were in, but Harry started to rock.

The movements started slowly but had to impression of building in intensity fairly quickly. This was what forced Draco to finally put an end to their motions.

Draco knew that if Harry wanted to be with him, and of this, he was becoming more and more confident by the second, then he wanted to take things slowly. Not only because they were friends, but because Harry was rather inexperienced. Merlin, they were both inexperienced when it came to members of their own sex.

As much as it pained him, he gave a final kiss to Harry's neck, pecked his lips and stilled the other boy's movements.

They looked at each other, still in their intimate position from before. Draco considered the man he was in love with. His hair was ruffled, but perhaps no more so than usual, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright. Most attractively, though, were his kiss swollen lips. Draco had never seen his friend look so debauched in all the time they had known each other. With the girls, Harry never looked so dishevelled, never so thoroughly pleased.

"So," Harry said.

"Yes?" He replied, trying to evade being the one to talk about what had just happened.

"That was... weird." Harry sucked on his already swollen lip and ran a hand through his hair.

"Good weird?" Draco asked, smirking, already knowing the answer.

Harry smiled, apparently unable to help himself because he blushed right afterwards. "Shut up. Did you think it was good?" He asked, stressing 'you'.

Draco considered how to answer. Normally, the answer would be obvious. If Harry was one of the girls he was trying to woo, he would simply flatter them. He would seemingly lose all his reservations, when in reality, protecting himself.

This was different on just about every level he could think of. Flattery was not an option. There was too much on the line for this to be the flippant conversation it was turning in to. He had everything to lose. His pride, his reputation, his best friend.

He took a deep breath and looked at Harry seriously.

"Please don't run screaming. I really hope, more than you can imagine, that I'm not making a mistake in telling you this but... I think I like you. I think I've liked you for awhile." Draco was blushing again, for the second time that night. He had laid down all his cards in the simplest terms he thought possible. There would be no mistaking his intentions, no loopholes for Harry to hide in.

Harry was still straddling him, probably thoughtlessly, but it made the conversation that much more intense. They were as close as could be and every emotion that flashed across their faces was visible to the other. It was for this reason that, when unfiltered happiness and relief hooked to Harry's face for the briefest of seconds, Draco was able to decipher it and relax a bit.

"You know," Harry said quietly, "I really didn't know that until you tried to kiss me. You're not quite as subtle as I think you'd like to be." He staring at his own hands as he played absently with the buttons on Draco's shirt.

"But then you knew, and you kissed me," Draco prompted, confidence coming off him in waves.

Harry sensed his mood and rolled his eyes. "You know, you don't have to be quite so cocky. I'm still feeling pretty rough about the whole thing."

Draco's mood dropped dramatically. "What do you mean? Rough how? Do you regret kissing me?" he asked, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance and, he guessed, failing miserably.

"No," Harry reassured immediately. "It's just that I wasn't even sure I liked you until about fifteen minutes ago. It all just moved rather quickly for me," he smiled.

"Oh, well if that's all..." Draco perked right back up. "If it makes you feel better, we don't have so shout it from the rooftops just yet. In fact, I would actually appreciate you not telling Sirius for a bit," he added nervously. "I've seen the way he grills you about your love life."

Harry smiled and blushed as Draco connected himself to Harry's love life.

"So I guess that means you want to... get together or something?" he asked bashfully.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Harry, I like you. You said you like me. If that kiss was anything to go off, we have a fair bit of chemistry. I think it would be an insult to the world to not give this a shot."

Harry swatted his shoulder. "That's not very romantic, you know."

"I'll work on it, okay? For now, just promise me that I won't be getting an unannounced and slightly threatening visit from your Godfather."

Harry sighed and leaned in to rest his head on the other's shoulder. "Like I would tell him anyway."

OOOoooOOO

Reviews are much appreciated! (Please? Only takes a second!)


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Sephony for making me feel horrendously guilty for not having updated in so long. There's a tip for you, by the way. Just make me feel guilty and you'll get a chapter.

That's awful... I can already feel hordes of guilt just flowing my way :)

OOOoooOOO

Harry rushed up the stairs to his dormitory and threw open the door, banging it loudly against the wall. His dorm mates all jumped to awareness from their early slumber.

"Harry," whined Seamus, propping himself up, "what the fuck?"

Harry has the decency to look abashed.

"Sorry guys, a little hyper. Go back to sleep."

All four boys grumbled in unison before resuming their respectful sleeping positions. Content that they had forgiven, or at least forgotten, his minor transgression, Harry went back about his business and jumped on to Ron's bed, pulling the curtains closed in one smooth motion. He looked at Ron, who had obviously been trying to sleep. Ron looked back, nonplussed.

"Silencio," spoke Harry, cloaking the curtains with the charm.

"So," Ron prompted.

Harry simply bounced on the spot, clearly wanting to say something. There was an uncomfortable silence, as they simply stared at each other. Ron sighed.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on, or am I going to have to kick your ass for waking me up?"

Harry clacked his teeth from side to side in a gesture of nerves and said, "I really shouldn't tell you."

"Then bugger off," Ron groaned in exasperation.

"Okay fine, I'll tell you."

Ron waited.

"Well, what happened was..."

"Harry!"

"I kissed Draco," Harry said, his face immediately colouring.

"You what?" Ron shot up in bed, bringing himself to a sitting position. "Why?"

"Why?" Harry snorted, "Because I wanted to." He wasn't anxious about Ron's reaction to his involvement with a male, as his friend had been very supportive concerning Sirius and Remus. What he was worried about was the upcoming discussion. The one where Ron asked if they were together, and what this would mean for his and Draco's relationship.

He didn't know how to answer those questions. He didn't know where he would start.

Were they together? How was he supposed to act around Draco now? It would be miles ahead of strange if they started to behave like a couple. Harry wouldn't be at all comfortable with that. Draco was his best friend – not his... He shuddered at the word 'boyfriend'.

Ron's predictable question interrupted his thoughts. "So are you two... together now?"

Harry's shoulders slumped as he shrugged tiredly, his demeanour changing rapidly from his energy before.

"I don't know what we are now. I don't think 'together' would be a good way of describing it. He did say he liked me, and I think I like him too, but it all just seems a little confusing."

Ron's face fell in to a sympathetic expression. "Sorry mate, I don't know what to tell you. You should probably talk to him about it." They both knew that wasn't something that was likely to happen.

"Yeah, right," he said, absently. His thoughts had drifted once again. He would wait to see how Draco wanted to handle the situation. He would take his cues from him, and do whatever he was comfortable with.

But what was he comfortable with?

OOOoooOOO

Sirius knocked loudly on Remus' door and waited. And waited.

It seemed the werewolf was avoiding him. He had been standing outside his apartment for a great deal of time now, and had heard some frantic sounds from inside, but had yet to be directly acknowledged. He sighed. Sirius was starting to understand how he might be welcomed in this situation.

Remus was clearly embarrassed by their actions, and seemed unwilling to even discuss them. He would have to take matters in to his own hands.

He tried the doorknob first, but only because it would later prove awkward if he went to a lot of unnecessary effort. Satisfied that the door was locked, he slipped out his wand.

"Remus, I'm coming in!" he yelled, figuring it was only fair to warn his friend of the impending forced entry. "Alohomora."

To his relief, and also slight consternation the door clicked open. Remus hadn't enforced any wards around his place. This worked in his favour but also meant he was vulnerable to attack. He would need to have a talk with him later. For now, however, he was single minded.

He saw his prize sitting on the sofa, looking up at him in alarm. He had obviously heard his knocks and yells, and chosen to ignore them.

"I... I just got in..." he stuttered defensively. "Have you... been here long?"

Sirius snorted in derision, "Don't lie to me, Moony, I could hear you moving about." He moved quickly to sit beside his friend on the sofa before he could be herded outside.

"W-what do you want?" Remus shifted slightly away from Sirius, who rolled his cerulean eyes.

"You're being intentionally thick now." Sirius had, admittedly, had quite a bit of experience in the romance arena. He could sweet talk any man or woman into his bed, and then please them in ways that would have them screaming his name. But he was at a loss for words.

He would never have thought that he would be having this conversation with Remus. His Moony. He had always been unreasonably protective of him, but how could he protect him from himself?

Remus had apparently grown bored of the silence, as he said, "Listen, Sirius. If you have something to say, then say it. If not, get out."

Sirius glanced up at him, hurt by his brusque tone. "I have something to say, I'm just not sure what it is."

Remus clenched his jaw noticeably, but Sirius knew it was in anticipation, not annoyance. "Well, work it out."

Sirius took a deep breath before speaking.

"I know you're not, well, gay. But we kissed and I liked it. And I was hoping maybe you did too." Sirius had never felt so vulnerable. He was out on a major limb, and not liking it. How were people so earnest? He knew what it was like to be on the other side of things – he had broken innumerable hearts, but he was about to find out how all those men and women had felt. He prepared himself for the slash of rejection. For Remus to laugh. Anything.

At the silence, his eyes darted to Remus'. His friend seemed confused, and maybe a little hopeful.

"So... you liked the kiss?" He said, studying the other's face.

"Of course," Sirius blurted, trying to squash down a persistent wave of hope, "didn't you?" he finished, hesitantly.

Remus spluttered. "I guess. It was alright."

"Well that's awfully unenthusiastic. I would say you're under-exaggerating. If you ask me, you either really didn't like it and are trying to spare my feelings, or you really did like it, and you're trying to seem distant and aloof to keep me away to protect yourself. Or, I suppose," he continued his ramblings, "you really might have thought it was just alright, in which case I would really need to examine my technique, because –"

He was cut off by Remus' finger on his lips. "You really need to calm down," he said, a slight smile creeping on to his face.

Sirius subconsciously mirrored the smile. "Does that mean you liked it?"

The smile abruptly dropped from the werewolf's face and he withdrew his hand from Sirius'.

"Nothing's going to happen. I don't want to be your plaything," Remus said, his face a slight pink, but firm with resolve. "I've seen how you act around the people you're with, to be treated like that. We're friends, and I'm not going to let you take that from me because you fancy a change." He stood up and turned slightly away from Sirius, as if waiting for him to leave.

Sirius sat shell-shocked. He didn't know how to convince Remus that he was wrong. The worst part about what he had said, was that it was true. He did treat the people he slept with like dirt. His typical routine was romance, seduce, fuck, kick out. He didn't deserve a person as pure and sweet as Remus. But he wanted him. And that meant that he was going to try. He had to.

"Remus, I know. I'm sorry I'm like that. I'm sorry I'm so awful, but that's not how I want you. I want all of you; everything you have to give. And I'm not going to throw it away, not for anything." He was pleading desperately and had to fight to keep the tears from spilling over onto his cheeks.

Remus turned back towards him, sadness in his eyes. "How do I know that? You've never once had anything remotely like a committed adult relationship. I'm not even sure you're capable of it."

Sirius felt the first tear falls to his lip, and he quickly brushed it away.

"But I want you, Rem. I don't want to jump in to bed with you, I want a relationship. I want to wake up with you every morning, and make you tea while you shower. Read the paper together, go for walks in the evenings, make love at night, and fall asleep holding you. I want everything."

A small part of Sirius' mind wondered where that had come from. He didn't know that he had wanted all that, but now that he said it, he knew it to be true. The intensity of his feelings cowed him slightly, but he recovered quickly.

"Can't we start slowly and see where it leads? I just want you to give me a chance. Don't promise me anything except a chance. Please?"

Remus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes closed. "Fine. I'll give you a chance. But if you ruin our friendship; if we can't be around each other anymore because of something you do..." he trailed off, leaving the consequences to the imagination.

"Thank you, Moony!" The smile flew back to Sirius' face and he jumped up like a child, opening a favourite Christmas present. "Thank you." He hugged him roughly, burying his face in to Remus' neck.

Remus smiled, truly happy though not a little apprehensive. He knew it wasn't the wisest thing to start a relationship with the infamous heartbreaker, but Sirius had just seemed so desperate. And after all, hadn't he waited to hear those very words from Sirius' mouth for decades? Maybe it was time he let go and finally took a chance on happiness. He hugged Sirius back, and acknowledged that it would be a tough journey, but he was ready for it.

OOOoooOOO

Harry met Draco in the Great Hall before breakfast the next morning. They exchanged awkward smiles before walking to their respective tables. When Harry sat down next to Ron, and across from Hermione, they both looked at him somewhat strangely.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked at once.

Harry started, surprised. "Nothing's wrong, why?"

Hermione looked at him skeptically. "Harry, something's obviously not right. You're twitchy, tense, you can't sit still, and you're ruining the hem on your sleeve." She pointed to the fraying hem that he had been fidgeting with, seconds ago.

Harry glanced to Ron, who was looking at him in obvious understanding. Harry rolled his eyes. Way to be subtle Ron.

Hermione, astute as ever, caught the quick look and knew she was right.

"Is it a girl?"

Lovely, thought Harry, and so starts the twenty questions. The girl was astoundingly good at guessing the problem in any given situation, and Harry knew it was simply a matter of waiting for her to figure out exactly what had gone on the night before. She would probably know more than even he did, given time.

"Did something happen in class?"

Harry gave her an incredulous look, though still refusing to answer.

"Did Draco do something?"

He knew the second his secret was lost, as he flamed red at the phrasing of her question. Harry simply settled back and let it happen around him.

Ten minutes, a hushed conversation, and a very embarrassed Harry later, Hermione was in the know. There had been more details shared than Harry would have strictly preferred, but he did feel better having a female available to talk to this about. He clearly couldn't talk to Draco about his feelings, and Ron was not proving to be much on the emotional availability front.

"Well, what are you going to say to him?" Hermione asked quietly. They had distanced themselves from the rest of the table to talk.

"I'm not sure. What should I say?"

Hermione sighed. "Well, what do you want from this situation?"

"I'm not sure," he repeated.

Ron and Hermione exchanged an exasperated glance.

"Okay. If you could have your relationship with Draco be any way you wanted, how would it be? Would you be friends? Occasional lovers? Boyfriends?"

Harry's eyes widened at the considerations. Lovers? But that would mean... Could he really have sex with Draco? Two simultaneous, yet contradictory reactions took place. He shuddered in revulsion, while tingles travelled down to his groin.

"I... I'm not sure."

"You know," Ron said, turning to Hermione, "if I never hear that phrase again, I won't mind."

"Seriously guys, I don't know what I want. I really like Draco as a friend. Really, he's the best mate anyone could ask for. And I think I like him, you know, that way," he gestured crudely, "but... I feel awkward about it. I don't know how to act. I don't even know if I want to date a bloke. Maybe I'm just confusing feelings or something, I mean, I haven't been with anyone in awhile, you know?"

"Harry," Hermione said, touching his arm gently, "you need to think about what you want. And don't lead Draco on if you don't want to be with him. That will only harm your friendship, and Merlin knows, that's the last strain it needs right now."

Harry looked across the Great Hall to where Draco was interacting casually with his house mates. He didn't seem too distressed or anxious about the future of their relationship, which made Harry think that maybe he was taking the whole thing a little too seriously. So they had kissed. They had confessed mutual feelings. Did that have to mean anything?

Harry let his head fall forward on to the table with a distinct 'thunk'. Yes, it did mean something. To him, at least.

OOOoooOOO

Hope you enjoyed this little pseudo-angst fest! It was quite a bit of fun to write :)


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Because I've finally decided to be responsible in regards to this story, here's the next chapter! The following one is well on it's way to being done, so you can expect that no later than next week. And I'm not lying. So there.

It will be the same format as this one. There's jumbled scenes, with a letter transition between the two couples. There should be some clear contrast by chapter 18, as to where these relationships are headed. Okay, enough rambling. Read on!

OOOoooOOO

Sirius bustled around the kitchen, adjusting this and that, as he waited for Remus to arrive. For their date. He smiled. He and Remus had a date. He had thought the day would never come. It was one of those things that he hadn't even lingered on, not wanting to build any sort of hope or ambition around the idea. But now it was a reality.

Although, he considered, he was under quite a great deal of pressure to impress.

Remus had told him he had a chance and something about not wanting to ruin their relationship. He was, of course, completely daft to think he needed to tell Sirius those things. Now that he had a grip on Remus, he wasn't letting go. This was perfect. Their relationship hadn't even solidly begun yet, and already Sirius knew it was going to be incredible. Awe-inspiring. People would come from far and wide to witness love in its purest form.

Now he just had to finish preparing the most perfect meal in the world, and Remus would be his for the night.

He hummed to himself as he laid out his finest cutlery for the occasion. A single red rose adorned the table, and though Sirius knew it was exceedingly cliché, he also knew Remus would adore it. He didn't want to light candles because he wasn't sure either of them would be able to hold back the snickers, so he merely lowered the lights.

Sirius checked the pot and turned off the stove. All there was left to do was wait.

He didn't have to wait long.

Remus came in without knocking, as was the standard practice between them, and threw his jacket across the hat stand.

"Padfoot?" he called in to the house.

"In here," Sirius called from the kitchen.

"Erm..." he hesitated as he entered the room, "are you cooking?" Remus traditionally did the cooking, as Sirius was only familiar with about half a dozen dishes.

"Yep," he replied, grinning proudly, "I tried something new."

"Merlin help us all. And you haven't blown anything up, yet?"

"Well, it was slightly tricky at first; things weren't going so well, but I got back on track. And I learned a few things, so I'd consider the entire experience a success," he finished with a flourish.

Remus chuckled at his friend, "What did you make?"

"Spaghetti," he revealed, lifting the lid of the pot dramatically.

Remus blinked. "Sirius, you've made spaghetti before."

"Yes, yes I have, but it's never turned out well, if you'll remember."

Actually he did remember, now that he thought about it. Something about clumps of gooey strands stuck out in his mind.

"Mhm," Remus mumbled through his newfound apprehension, "and what exactly did you learn that makes this time different?"

"Well," Sirius said, thoughtfully bringing a ladle to his chin, "for one, I remembered what you had told me about stirring. Helped a great deal, that."

Oh, Merlin. What had he been thinking when he'd agreed to dinner with Sirius? Well actually, to be honest about the whole thing, he'd completely expected, upon entering the house this evening, to be taken out to dinner. Hence the nice clothing. One did not normally wear collared muggle shirts under one's robe to work at the Ministry. And yet here he was.

It was rather sweet, he considered, that Sirius had gone to all this effort for him. He'd never known his friend to make a meal for any of his dates, except, on the rare occasion, breakfast in the morning. Sweet, Remus insisted to himself, it was sweet. He couldn't think too long on Sirius' sexual past.

"At any rate," Remus said, perhaps more forcefully than was strictly necessary, "it was very nice of you to make us dinner. I didn't realize you'd go to all the effort." He knew he was stroking Sirius' ego but he couldn't help himself. It was the subtle flirting technique that he had developed for the man over the years.

Although, he realized with a jolt, the flirting didn't have to be subtle anymore. It was easy to fall in to the role of friends. Too easy, in fact. Something would have to change between them before Remus could look at Sirius as more than a secret crush.

"It wasn't too much trouble," Sirius said, practically preening.

Remus had to quell a besotted smile, thinking that would be a little feminine, but suddenly understanding the need for one. He had always known why women and men alike, fell to the feet of his best friend, only now he himself was the target. Sirius was an endearing combination of innocent and debauched. He was the most charismatic man Remus had ever known.

The attention left him both uneasy and excited, a strange mix of emotion. He had never had the infamous Black charm directed towards him. How was he ever going to deal with being courted by such a master in the art?

They started on their meals, Remus a little surprised to find that it tasted decent. Not to say Sirius was a horrible cook, just that he was better in the toaster arena than the stove.

They ate in silence, though shooting strange looks at one another when they thought the other wasn't looking. This strategy often failed. It felt very bizarre to be uncomfortable in the slightest around Sirius. Remus wasn't used to having to consider his thoughts before voicing them.

While he tried to appear as though he had the upper hand in the affair, it was clear, at least to him, who was calling the shots. Remus could deny anything and everything he wanted, but in truth, he had very little experience with relationships. Both his status as a werewolf, and his infatuation with Sirius had kept him from seeking anything more than a few relationships with people he trusted very much.

Exactly the reason he was so uneasy about this venture. Could he trust Sirius with his heart?

OOOoooOOO

Harry,

Sorry it's been awhile since I wrote – I've been rather occupied. I imagine you have too, what with your great, although sometimes worrisome obsession with your school work. You really should sit back and relax every once in awhile, you know.

Although I'm sure you could tell, that was sarcasm, you lazy twit. Remus, who is reading over my should, is telling me to be nicer to you, so I suppose I'll have to tone down the name calling. Oh, the things I do for you...

Any good pranks lately? ...Because I wouldn't approve if you had done something of the sort. You'd best keep to the academic aspects of Hogwarts. Merlin knows I did. And you should tell Remus he has no right to hit me – he wasn't exactly the most responsible student, let me tell you.

Actually, I'm sure I already have so never mind. Give Draco my love, and tell Ron and Hermione to get on your arse about homework. No, just Hermione. I know Mr. Weasley too well to labour under any such delusion.

Love,

Sirius (with input from Remus)

OOOoooOOO

Harry rolled over in bed. He couldn't sleep. It had been a few days since he and Draco kissed, and he was more confused than ever. They had kissed a few more times, even leading up to snogging. Enthusiastically, if he remembered. But he still didn't know how to handle the situation. He didn't know the right things to say. How did you treat a boyfriend? He had never really been part of a couple before – not one that he cared about.

Did being a boyfriend require him to hold the door for Draco? Check in on him throughout the day? Was he supposed to be affectionate? Harry would feel stupid doing any of those things, when he had been Draco's friend for so many years beforehand. He knew how his mind worked, for the most part. Draco would just see those as empty gestures, wouldn't he?

Harry sighed in exasperation and rolled over to retrieve Sirius' mirror; an old habit when he felt this way.

"Draco?" he spoke to his reflection.

He didn't have to wait long for Draco's face to appear.

"Yeah?" the blonde answered. This was a strange response in itself. Normally, Draco didn't wait to hear if Harry had something to tell or ask him, he just assumed he was calling to shoot the breeze.

"Erm, how are thing?" Harry would have rolled his eyes at his awkwardness, had he not felt so... awkward.

"Pretty good. Just showered. I finished my homework with Pansy earlier."

"Oh. That's good."

"Mm."

There was a brief pause while Harry tried desperately to think of something captivating and intellectually stimulating to say.

He came up with nothing.

"Was it difficult?"

Draco's lips cracked a smirk, "Have you not finished yours?"

"Prat, of course I finished. But you know how sometimes you need a little extra help," Harry teased. Draco's laugh sounded slightly off.

They did this all the time, this easy banter.

Only now, it wasn't so easy.

Harry felt like they were both putting on a front. He couldn't identify what he was doing wrong in the conversation. How was this different than any other time they spoke?

Except that they had been intimate now.

Did that really change things? Maybe it did. If this strangeness between them was anything to go by. It was Harry's worst nightmare come true. The fears he had expressed to Hermione were becoming a reality. What if he and Draco could never talk normally? What if they were doomed to this clumsy conversation?

Although, perhaps he was overreacting. In fact, he was almost sure of it. They were exploring a new facet of their relationship. Things were bound to be uneasy for the first little bit, while they found their footing. It would probably be a little weird again after they had sex for the first time.

But should a relationship be that way? Should they feel uncomfortable around each other every time they explored something new?

"You know what? I'm pretty out of it, I'm just going to go to bed," Draco's voice came from the mirror.

"Okay. Night, Draco."

"Night."

Harry replaced the mirror in his bedside table. He didn't know what to make of Draco, and that scared him. Since when did he have trouble understanding his best friend?

OOOoooOOO

Harry pulled back from Draco's lips, gasping for breath. He ran his hand down the blonde's back as he sucked in oxygen, before engaging him in another kiss. He felt a hand bury deeply in his wild hair, and lock him firmly in place, until he couldn't pull back, even if he had wanted to.

Draco pushed him against the wall of the broom closet and moved his body ever so slightly over Harry's. They both bucked up when their groins brushed and suddenly, the kiss became even more urgent. Hands gripped randomly at clothes, noses bumped and hips grinded together in a frenzy of erotic energy.

"Bloody hell, Harry," Draco groaned as he squeezed his hand between their bodies and rubbed insistently on Harry's denim covered erection.

"Fuck, don't stop."

OOOoooOOO

Draco waited nervously in the hall outside the entrance to the kitchens. He and Harry had snuck down and he was waiting for the Gryffindor to come back out with the food. Harry always went in without him, as Dobby didn't care too much for his company.

The walk down to the portrait had been incomparably awkward. Normally, the pair of them would talk for hours about any subject under the sun, but ever since they had started this relationship...

Draco scoffed at the term. They weren't in a relationship. He didn't think they were capable of it, if this was their best attempt. His time with Harry was now either spent snogging, which inevitably led to them having to leave each others company to go wank, or it was spent in heavy silence and shifting eyes.

He hadn't truly felt relaxed or happy around Harry since this whole thing had started. That was of course, assuming that 'happy' was not that same as 'horny as hell'.

At least they seemed to have that aspect going for them. Personally, every moment he was around Harry, he was at least moderately aroused. He couldn't remember the last time he had looked at the boy and seen a friend, and not sex incarnate.

Maybe that was part of the problem, he mused. Maybe he couldn't see his friend anymore. Draco hadn't had much experience with relationships and he wasn't sure he knew how to maintain a friendship with a person when you were sexually attracted to them. He was used to quelling his lust and moving on. But he couldn't do that with Harry.

Logically he knew that, but he couldn't seem to put his thoughts in to actions. He found he was less inclined to spend time with Harry, whether that be because they were now in a sexual relationship, or because things had recently become uncomfortable in their friendship. Or perhaps those were one in the same.

There should have been little shows of affection throughout the day: little pecks on the cheek, a simple touch on the arm, even a small smile, just for him. There was none of that. They weren't in a relationship.

And Draco didn't know what to do.

OOOoooOOO

Well I've just been informed that my general area of the globe is under a tornado watch... which is very, very rare for here. I'm a little scared... So wish me non-death! And also, review! :D


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: I can honestly say that I really like this chapter. It was quite easy to write and I'm generally happy with it : ) Hope you enjoy it just as much (Also, can I get a 'hell yeah' for the update?)

OOOoooOOO

"Merlin," Draco panted as he threw his head back.

They were in the Room of Requirement, and Draco was sitting on the provided couch. What made this typically mundane activity more interesting was the half naked and very hard Harry that straddled him.

Harry sucked his neck, occasionally placing open mouthed kisses along the length, all the while grinding his hips in to Draco's.

The Gryffindor's shirt had long since been thrown to the side and Draco was quite happy to use the Quidditch sculpted chest as his playground. Whenever Harry gave his neck a break, Draco would move forward to lap at his nipples.

"Draco," Harry moaned, not appearing to be entirely conscious of the fact that he was speaking, "Fuck, Draco, you feel so good."

The blonde's hand travelled slowly down to Harry's fly.

"Can I...?" he asked, unable to voice his lust.

"Merlin, yes. Touch me," Harry said, his eyes closed and head back. Draco could see a slight frown on his face, as though he was concentrating very hard on something.

His hands were shaking so badly that he had to use both to undo Harry's jeans. As he parted the material, he saw the bulge of a swollen cock through the white boxer briefs he knew Harry always wore. That was Harry's cock, and it was hard for him. He swallowed hard.

He caressed the bulge, gently at first, and then harder as he saw Harry's breath catch.

"Please," Harry whispered, bringing his forehead to touch Draco's, still rotating his hips rhythmically.

That was all it took to convince Draco. He pulled the elastic on the boxers down and brought out his best friend's cock. He immediately felt saliva pool in his mouth and had to swallow a few times in rapid succession.

He couldn't believe this was Harry. He pulled back from the tiny kissed Harry had been placing all over his face and took in all that was his friend. His hair was more dishevelled than usual, his cheeks were flushed pink and his lips were swollen. His chest was heaving with his heavy breathing, but the rotation of his hips would bring out his defined abdomen every few seconds. Add to that the gorgeous treasure trail leading to a lightly trimmed, black thatch of pubic hair and the long, thick cock jutting up, with a slight inward curl.

Draco couldn't believe his luck. He had this sexy piece of masculinity all to himself, writhing in his lap.

"Please, Draco," Harry repeated, spurring him in to action. He grasped firmly at the revealed cock and started tugging at a fast pace. He knew Harry was close, and he himself was nearing the edge, just from the light friction and visual stimulation.

"Oh, Draco, that's so good, don't stop," he panted, and buried his face in Draco's neck as he came. Harry bit down sharply and unexpectedly, surprisingly causing Draco to climax without a thought for his trousers.

As they both came down from their orgasms, Harry slumped in to Draco, who in turn slumped back in to the couch.

The moment Draco regained enough energy to move, he guided Harry off of him and stood up, performing a cleaning charm on himself.

"See you around, yeah?" Draco asked, vulnerability creeping momentarily in to his eyes, gone too quickly for Harry to see. He turned around and left the room, leaving Harry to tuck himself back in to his pants and find his shirt.

"I'll just be going then, shall I?" Harry asked to the lonely room.

OOOoooOOO

"Hermione, I really just don't understand what's going on. What am I supposed to be doing differently?" Harry asked desperately.

She sighed sadly, "I still don't know what to tell you, Harry. He's acting very strangely. But he must think the same of you, you do realize that?"

He raked his fingers through his hair. "I know I'm acting bizarrely, I just don't know how to be around him. Plus, I feel like..." he blushed red.

This got Hermione's attention, as lately, it had taken more and more to embarrass her Harry.

"You feel like what?"

"Well, I mean... I feel like we've moved really quickly."

"Harry, you were friends for years before you started a relationship. You're able to skip the 'getting to know you' phase," Hermione said, encouragingly.

"No." He hesitated. "I'm talking about physically. I think we're moving too quickly. I don't have that much... experience, and I feel like everything is just happening around me."

"Oh," Hermione said, her face colouring as well. "Tell him that."

"It's not that easy. You know we're not really talking much anymore." A pained expression crept on to his face as he contemplated his crumbling friendship.

"So you really only see each other when you're..." she trailed off, clearly too uncomfortable to continue.

"I guess, yeah."

"In my opinion, you're having trouble merging the two Draco's. There's the Draco who's your friend, and the Draco who's your lover. I think you're seeing him completely differently now that you're together but you really should still see your friend in him. He's not just some guy, Harry. He's Draco."

"I know, I know," Harry rubbed his eyes, "so what am I supposed to do?"

"Talk to him. For the love of Merlin, just talk to him."

OOOoooOOO

"Hey, Draco wait up," Harry called through the crowd leaving the Great Hall.

"What's going on, Harry?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something. Do you think we could go somewhere?"

A glint came in to Draco's eye and Harry knew that he was misinterpreting his request. That Draco was so quick to jump to those conclusions when Harry wanted to see him only strengthened his resolve to have this conversation. There were a few things that they needed to get straight before they could try the relationship thing out again.

"No, no, I mean I really want to talk," Harry corrected before Draco could plan too far ahead.

"Oh," Draco said, seeming disappointed. Harry wondered if it was because they wouldn't be snogging or because they would be talking. He sincerely hoped for the former. "Should we just try for Myrtle's then? It's closest for any private stuff and if we're just going to be talking..."

"Sure, let's go to Myrtle's." Harry was none too happy with Draco's attitude but felt that to tell him that would be channelling McGonagall and wanted to keep the conversation as civil as possible.

They were on their way when Draco scratched his neck rather suddenly, pulling down the collar of his oxford. Harry looked up in response to the unexpected motion, and saw a distinct bruise colouring his neck.

It didn't take half a second to realize what that bruise was, and Harry immediately felt ill. He knew Hermione had been right. He couldn't merge the two Draco's in his mind; the lover and the friend, and yet here they were, being thrown in his face.

He couldn't think of his friend as anything but that. He couldn't stand the idea that he could be with Draco that way, and yet he was insatiably attracted to him. He felt strangely guilty, and even a little dirty.

"Sorry, I've got to go," he said, making up his mind in an instant.

Draco turned to him in confusion.

"What are you talking about? You just said you wanted to talk about something."

"Yeah, sorry. I realized I have to... be somewhere. I... I promise Hermione something." Harry walked away slowly, completely aware of how stupid he must have looked. "Sorry, I promised." And he took off.

Draco was left staring down the hallway at nothing, half annoyed and half relieved. He really hadn't wanted to have whatever conversation Harry was that wound up for.

OOOoooOOO

Sirius (and Remus),

I will have you know that I am caught up in all my classes, and doing quite well on the assignments so there is no need to mouth off.

I haven't done any pranks lately, sorry, I've been a bit busy as well, what with all that school work. I regret to say I don't actually have all that much to tell you. Hopefully something thrilling will happen between now and my next letter, though I somehow doubt it. You know how boring my life can be.

Tell Remus I said hello, because I know you'll forget to show him this letter.

Love to you both,

Harry

OOOoooOOO

The fire in Sirius' living room crackled, shooting small sparks up the floo. Sirius and Remus were curled up together on the couch, the position far more intimate than one they would have assumed as friends.

And Remus liked it.

He curled deeper in to Sirius, who had his arm around his shoulders, making him feel warm, safe, and most of all, giddy. As embarrassing an emotion it was for a full grown man, Remus couldn't help it. Tonight was notably different than any night he had ever seen Sirius share with another. There was no entertainment – nothing to distract them, just talking and silence.

Remus had always been good with silence, but he knew it made Sirius uncomfortable. This led him to wonder whether Sirius was uncomfortable at the moment, or if he was just so comfortable with Remus that he needn't fill the silence. Really, it could go either way with the hyperactive man.

"This is nice," Sirius said, playing with the werewolf's fingers.

Alright, Remus decided instantly, he was uncomfortable with the silence. Too bad, really. He had been enjoying it.

"Yes, it is," he responded, and sighed. His head was rested on Sirius' shoulder and he was trying to decide whether he felt more tired or horny. It was a close call. He was pressed against his best friend, and long time fantasy's tight body, pulled in close and being lovingly regarded. It had been years since he'd felt anything like this intimacy and never had it been with a person he'd cared for this much. Add to that, the fact that it had been a dreadfully long since he'd slept with anyone.

But on the other hand... he was tired.

For fear of falling asleep in Sirius' arms, he reluctantly turned to him and said, "Nice as it is, I think I'm going to have to call it a night. Sorry, I'm just exhausted."

"That's okay, I'm well aware that the full moon is coming up. I'd hate to tired either of us out before that," Sirius replied, releasing his hold on Remus and standing up.

"Am I still coming over, then?" Remus inquired. He normally came over for the night of the full moon so he could be with Padfoot. It was a lot more fun being in a large house than in his small apartment, and Sirius' place was already warded quite heavily to begin with.

"Course you are. Wouldn't have it any other way" he said as they walked to the door.

Remus stood just outside the house, wanting to walk away but something in Sirius' eyes kept him there. It seemed suspiciously likely that Sirius would kiss him, and he desperately wanted to allow that to happen.

He knew he shouldn't, knew they should be taking things slowly, but Merlin, they were! Both men were well in to their thirties, both sexually experienced. They knew each other well, and had been on a few informal dates. For them to have the amount of sexual tension they did, and not to have acted on it was a feat in itself.

Or so Remus told himself.

As predicted, Sirius moved slowly toward him, searching his face apprehensively. He knew Sirius was thinking of when he had promised to move slowly. He had told him that he was giving him a chance. Did that include such liberties?

Remus sure as hell thought it did, and he leaned forward, closing his eyes and relaxing his lips. It was extremely difficult not to deepen the kiss as soon as they made contact. It seemed the natural thing to do when one was so attracted to a person. As it was, Remus was contented with the soft pressure and gently giving of Sirius' lips.

He found himself wanting to open his eyes. He knew how gorgeous Sirius looked when he kissed – he'd seen it enough times, but to know this time that he was kissing him, would make all those times worth it. Despite all this, Remus didn't open his eyes because he'd always found it bizarre when people kissed with their eyes open.

As Sirius pulled away from the short and gentle kiss, Remus found himself regretting the fact that his mind had been racing the whole way through. He had wanted to thoroughly enjoy it but instead found himself analysing it, as he did with everything.

He would just have to wait for their next kiss, which he would be sure to enjoy to its fullest.

"Goodnight."

OOOoooOOO

That full moon was mostly a blur to Remus, as most were, though he remembered a little. He remembered Padfoot leaping towards him playfully, nipping and rolling until he was engaged in a bit of play wrestling. Padfoot barking happily to the roof covered sky, and chasing his tail, seeming a fool.

Most of all, he remembered how happy he had been, how happy the wolf had been. It was a new feeling, though not at all unwelcome. There had always been a slight edge of anxiety and sadness to the wolf but last night, it had been gone. He had played freely, with no worry of hurting Padfoot, and no guilt when he won a tumble.

Now, however, came the inevitable unpleasantness of the following morning. He was soreness personified. Since he had started taking Wolfsbane, he wasn't waking up in pain, only extreme discomfort. There were no scratches or broken bones, but every muscle in his body was screaming all he could do was wait for his body to relax itself.

"Morning," he heard a rumble from beside him. Remus jumped a little at the unexpected company and immediately regretted it as his muscles protested.

"Bloody hell, Sirius, don't scare me like that. I didn't know you were there," he said as he grimaced his pain. He was also uncomfortably aware that he was naked under the blankets that Sirius had clearly placed over him on the bed. Had the other also been naked, it wouldn't have been such a problem, but those damn animagi kept their clothes when they transformed.

"Are you really sore?" Sirius asked, concerned leaking in to his voice.

Remus didn't normally see him in the hours following sunrise, as Sirius typically went back to his own room. He had no idea how much pain he woke up in after a full moon.

"I'm just a little sore."

"Do you want a massage?" Sirius asked, suddenly becoming excited. "I give the best massages – lots of practice. Remember Angela? She used to make me massage her every day, even before we dated. She said I was incredible, so maybe I could give it a go on you, yeah?"

Remus chuckled weakly. "Calm down, you mutt. If you really wouldn't mind, it would be nice. I'm not sure how much it'll help, but anything's worth a try."

Not needing another word of encouragement, Sirius rolled him over gently so that he was lying on his stomach, and climbed over him, to straddle his buttocks. Remus was instantly glad that his face was mostly buried in a pillow as he turned a brilliant red.

He couldn't decide if this became more or less embarrassing now that they knew their feelings for one another. Either way, this was clearly not an innocent act on Sirius' part.

Remus knew he was a hopeless case as, despite the pain, his cock started to harden the moment Sirius straddled him. He could feel his arse and thighs around him, through just two thin layers of material. His immediate reflex, though he halted it, was to push back up against him. He didn't know what he would have done if he hadn't caught that motion in time. It would surely have spurred something that would have shot the 'taking it slow' plan to hell.

His mind stopped bothering him so much when Sirius finally started stroking his back muscles. And stroking was the right word. He wasn't kneading, as with a regular massage, but running his hands firmly in to the muscle, up and down his back, in long strokes.

Remus let loose a moan, without thinking. Instead of warding Sirius off it seemed to encourage him, as he pushed a little more firmly on the muscles. It was perfect. Exactly what he needed after the full moon.

There was the slightly awkward fact of his growing erection, but as long as he stayed on his stomach, that would pass with time. He couldn't help but feel like a teenager again, as his body reacted against his wishes.

It wasn't unexpected, as Sirius had been unknowingly turning him on for decades, but it was still unappreciated.

"Is the pressure okay?" he asked from above Remus, who could almost smell the self-satisfaction that was coming off him in waves. He didn't care. So long as Sirius kept... going...

"Mmm," he moaned, unable to do much else.

His God-like masseur had moved on to his arms, which sent tingles up and down Remus' entire body. He felt like he was sinking in to the bed. He was still exhausted from the night and felt his mind clouding over in a haze of pleasure.

Just before succumbing to sleep, he distantly acknowledged Sirius' breathy voice saying, "Merlin, we should do this more often."

OOOoooOOO

Okay, third chapter out in fast succession. Now that we're firmly back on track, I'll be updating at least every second week. That's a promise that I'll keep until... well, quite frankly, until I break it ;)


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: I like all the reviews saying, "They need to sort it out." Oh, if only it were that easy. This is real life, people! Well, no, it's not actually, but it's trying to emulate it :) So anyway, here's my next chapter, just as I promised. I'm moving in to my new apartment (across the country) within 24 hours, so I've been incredibly stressed and busy with the packing and goodbyes and everything. I can't believe I actually pulled it together to write this, but I suppose I'm committed now. Plus, I realized that I wouldn't be inclined to do it later.

Phew, that was an unnecessarily long author's note. This isn't a blog... Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter!

Zara Snape: I'm sorry to hear that... You actually made me pout a little bit, haha. But I'm glad you're enjoying the story! Also, you told me to let you know when I updated, but your email address is hidden on the site. Sorry! Hope you find this...

OOOoooOOO

Sirius and Remus had both fallen asleep after the massage, and Remus was still enjoying his slumber. Sirius couldn't handle it. He loved him, he really did, but if the man didn't stop snoring...

Sirius liked to consider himself sane, but there were a few conditions to this sanity. He couldn't handle the ticking of clocks, hearing people chew, or most of all, snoring. They made him want to rip his ears off and run as far from the offensive noise as possible. He detested the sounds. He was repulsed by people who created or enabled the sounds.

He glared at Remus hatefully. How could such a lovely, tender, handsome man make such noises in his sleep? He seemed gentle enough, his features relaxed and his eyelids fluttering.

That was all irrelevant.

Sirius rolled out of bed, taking his pillow as he stood. What he really wanted to do was beat Remus awake, and yell at him for making Sirius homicidal, but some logical bit of his mind told him that he might be overreacting.

He gently slid a blanket off the bed and padded out to the sitting room, falling on to the couch in sheer exhaustion.

What felt like seconds later, but was probably hours, if the light through the windows was anything to go by, he woke to Remus shaking him lightly.

"Padfoot?" His voice was low and husky.

"Wha?"

"Why are you out here? I mean, not that you had to stay or anything." Sirius' puffy eyes could make out a low blush colouring Remus' cheeks.

"You snore, you prick," Sirius grumbled sleepily.

Remus rolled his eyes. "You are aware that you possess magical talents, yes?"

"Hm?"

"Just cast a silencio on me."

Sirius didn't respond.

"Siri?"

"But..." he said, mentally trying to excuse himself for not thinking of that, "what if you woke up before me? You wouldn't be able to talk. That's a hazard." He trailed off, looking skeptical about the validity of his own statement.

"We've both been able to cast non-verbal spells since fourth year. It would be easily reversible. Now go back to bed, please." Remus guided him back to his room, as Sirius tried to quell a smile. This was simply wonderful. Remus was inviting him to bed! Granted, probably not in the way that he would prefer, but it was a start.

"Now, just lie down, and when you get up, help yourself to anything. Not that I need to tell you that," he said as he tucked the man in.

"Wait, where are you going?" Sirius had thought they were getting in together.

"I've got to go to work."

"It's the day after the full moon! They can't make you work." Sirius reached out, still too groggy to realize how needy he looked.

"I know, but I told them I would come in. The whole office is a little preoccupied with You-Know-Who and they need all the help they can get."

This came as no surprise to Sirius, who had heard all about the Ministry's continued efforts against Voldemort, but he still pouted up at his friend.

"Sorry, mate," Remus said, brushing some hair from Sirius' eyes tenderly. "Get some sleep, okay?"

As he left, Sirius couldn't help but be slightly put out at the use of 'mate'. Weren't they supposed to be seeing each other? They weren't exactly boyfriends, but they had kissed with intent. Didn't that warrant slightly more than a 'mate'? Perhaps not a 'babe' or 'sweetheart' but...

Actually, he would take issue if Remus started calling him sweetheart. He wasn't the sweetheart type.

As Sirius drifted off to sleep, his train of thought become less and less coherent, until he was picturing Remus dressed in nothing other than a huge heart costume and bow to match. A smile crept on to his face, and he let himself fall further in to the dream.

OOOoooOOO

Harry,

We're glad to hear you're caught up. You're doing better than we ever did. Ouch! Okay, okay, Remus' elbow has kindly reminded me that that was just me. He was a marvellous student. Happy now, Moony? Merlin. You're lucky you're a country away, Harry, let me tell you.

Anyway, on a happier note, Remus and I are coming to visit! Something Dumbledore wants to chat about with the three of us. I'm not too sure why he invited Remus. I'm the parent, after all. Remus reckons it's because he's the only responsible parent figure in your life. I don't know what he's talking about.

You haven't pranked lately? What are you and Draco up to, then? You must be building up to one, yeah? Those are the best ones, really. There's nothing better than a well earned detention.

Moony doesn't seem to like to tone of this letter, if the welts on my arm are anything to go by.

Love you,

Sirius

P.S. Harry, for Merlin's sake, behave. See you soon. Love, Remus.

OOOoooOOO

"This isn't going to work. I can't talk to him. You should have seen his hickey. And I gave that to him. Oh Merlin. I can't do this. What am I doing? Why did I do this? I'm an idiot."

Hermione rubbed her temple, as Harry spoke faster and faster in his rant. He was pacing back and forth in front of her, as she sat on the Common Room couch. It was late at night, so they were the only ones there, unfortunately for Hermione, who had no distractions.

"Harry," she said forcefully, "will you please stop pacing? You're making me queasy."

"Right, sorry," he said, still walking.

Hermione sighed. "Why can't you talk to him about it? I didn't catch that part."

"Because!"

"Because why, though?"

"Because then... Then..." Harry stuttered, not appearing to have an answer.

"Because then he would understand where you were coming from, and know what you wanted from him? Because he would be able to share his thoughts with you, as well, and perhaps even come to a consensus about where you wanted your relationship to go?" Hermione asked sarcastically.

"For a start!" Harry cried. "And besides, it would be too embarrassing."

"He's been your best friend for years. He's seen you at your worst. He knows about your horrible first kiss, he saw you fall down those three consecutive flights of stairs that one time, and remember that flobberworm incident? He was there. So why is this so much worse?"

"This is different! We were friends when those things happened. This is so much worse," he said, his voice once again adopting a hysterical quality. "What am I going to do?"

"Okay, Harry. Calm down." Hermione was very close to giving up on her friend. He had her at wits end, and she wanted to go to bed. "You'd better listen to this, because I'm only going to say it once."

Harry nodded distractedly and she turned her eyes toward heaven in submission.

"You need to remember that he's still the same boy that you've always been friends with. He's not changed at all, only your relationship has changed. He's the same person you stayed up late with, talking about absolutely nothing."

"But everything's changed," Harry whispered, looking at her imploringly.

"No it hasn't. And you need to remember that. Maybe you two should do something as a couple that doesn't involve sex. It might be easier to see him as your old friend, but new lover," Hermione said, a crease appearing between her eyebrows as she considered her own suggestion.

"Like what?" Harry appeared vexed.

"Honestly. Boys," she said in resignation. "It's no wonder you two are having problems. You don't think of anything but sex." When Harry didn't dispute her, she continued, even more discouraged than before. "Maybe something like a meal at the Three Broomsticks, with just the two of you. Or a picnic. Even doing your homework in the library would bring a semblance of normality."

"Right. No, that makes sense. Doing something we used to do..." he thought about it. "But how am I supposed to ask him?"

Hermione groaned and rolled off the couch. "I'm going to bed. Either figure it out, or talk to me tomorrow."

She walked up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, wondering how men ever made it through life.

The next morning, she was sitting down to breakfast with Ron. She hadn't slept very well the night before, but knew she had to perk up for their Potions' quiz.

"Sleep well?" Ron asked, mouth full of scrambled eggs.

"Well enough. Harry kept me up quite late, talking of Draco."

Ron laughed bitterly. "Kept you up? You should've been in the dorm. He was up nearly all night. First he spoke to Draco through that mirror of his, then he was bouncing around all night. You know, I reckon he used to be more aloof. He never used to be so excitable."

Hermione's lips turned up slightly. She agreed wholeheartedly with Ron, although felt differently. He seemed to think that was a bad thing. Typical, really, of men to think that emotions were bad. She rather thought that Harry had always seemed afraid of getting attached to anyone. How he was now was a complete switch.

He was already attached to Draco, and he seemed both better and worse off for it. Better because he was finally allowing himself to experience the intimacy that came with close relationships, but worse because it was hurting him.

Maybe he had chosen the wrong person to become attached to. Draco didn't seem that concerned with Harry's feelings right now. She had told Harry that he was probably feeling the same as him, and it was just an awkward situation, and she tried to believe it herself. The problem was the she didn't actually know Draco all that well, only through association with Harry.

All she knew was that if Draco hurt her Harry, in a deep, damaging way, she would... She would... She didn't know what she would do, but it would be disagreeable. Harry seemed to inspire protective instincts in those close to him, and she was no exception.

At this thought, Harry came strolling in to the Great Hall, happier than she'd seen him in days.

As he sat down next to Ron, and reached cheerfully for the toast, she gave in. "Why are you in such a good mood?"

"He said yes," Harry said gleefully, spreading obscene amounts of jam on his bread.

"Draco? Said yes to what?" Hermione asked, turning to glance at Ron as he moaned, hands covering his face.

"Did you have to ask?" he asked.

"I asked him to go on a picnic and he said he would! Just like that. No convincing necessary." Harry seemed unduly ecstatic at the news of his boyfriend going on a date with him.

"Of course he agreed. He's your boyfriend and best friend, Harry," Hermione said, scrunching her brow in confusion.

"Well yeah, I know, but he never wants to talk to me anymore, and I figure if we go out in public with food, all we can do is talk."

Hermione didn't think it prudent to ruin her friend's mood by reminding him that he had told her, quite vehemently the night before, that he couldn't talk to Draco. She smiled instead, exclaiming, "That's great! I hope you guys have fun."

When Harry had turned away from them, Ron rolled his eyes at her, and made several complicated hand motions towards Harry, none of which Hermione could interpret. She was able to understand, however, that Ron and, most probably, the other boys in their dorm, were slightly frustrated by the sleepless night.

She watched Harry sadly as he ate. He seemed so happy, and she didn't want to see it all crash down around him. She tried to be positive when they talked about it, but she thought the whole thing was a mistake. She didn't think it was at all wise to enter in to relationships with friends, unless both parties were absolutely sure of what they wanted, and very serious about their intentions.

She had a feeling that neither Harry or Draco qualified in either category.

OOOoooOOO

Harry was nervous. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't felt at least slightly anxious. He was quite happy about Draco agreeing to the picnic, he hadn't been lying about that but the overriding feeling was pure terror. He was embarrassed that he was scared to see his own boyfriend, but he couldn't help it.

They couldn't hold decent conversations anymore, and the point he had made to Hermione was true. There would be nothing to do but talk. And what if they couldn't? What if there was nothing to say? He knew that feeling all too well. The one where both people stared at each other in silence, both thinking, 'now what?' and he didn't want that to be their relationship.

They had never had any trouble before. It was almost too easy to pinpoint the start of their troubles with the start of their sexual relationship. Harry would wish that they could go back to being just friends, and forget this ever happened, but what if it never went back to the way it was? It was horrible, Harry knew, but he wished it had never happened.

Harry also knew that was not the best attitude to be going in to a date with.

Taking a few deep breaths, he turned the corner with his picnic basket and saw Draco waiting in their designated spot. He was leaning against the wall, seeming aesthetically perfect to a hormonal Harry. He violently shoved those thoughts from his mind, as he reminded himself that was the opposite of why they were here.

He wanted to get this whole thing sorted out.

OOOoooOOO

Okay there you are. I've been thinking about where I'm going with this and I'm very very excited :) Hopefully some of that will rub off on you...?

And review! You guys haven't been doing so well lately and I would have to be sad, if the ones I WAS getting weren't so amazing (thanks guys!!). More coming in the promised allotted time.


	19. Chapter 19

OOOoooOOO

"Hey," Draco said smiling, pushing off from the wall to meet Harry.

"Hi," Harry replied. He could tell that Draco didn't really mean his smile. They knew each other well enough to read subtle facial expressions, and Draco's was hesitant. It wasn't the carefree and genuine smile that Harry was accustomed to seeing from his best friend.

"We ready?"

"Yep, let's go." Harry led the way as they left the school. He had previously decided to take him to a spot in the gardens by the forest. It was relatively shaded, and away from most of the students.

As it was a rather mild winter afternoon, they were both wearing only light cloaks, and scarves. They sat down on the blanket that Harry laid out, and opened the picnic basket, revealing sandwiches and fruits.

"Apple?" Draco offered.

"No, thanks."

They are in silence as Harry wracked his brain for something to say. It was exactly as he had feared yet predicted. It was as though his brain had stopped working. What did people talk about? What was one, random topic of conversation? Anything would do. Anything at all.

"How have you been?" Draco asked, breaking the deafening silence.

That was almost worse than the silence. Such an impersonal question made it clear that neither of them had anything to say.

"Pretty good. Busy with school and stuff, obviously. And Crookshanks tore up some of my homework again, which only made me fall behind even more. You?"

"Same. Well, not the Crookshanks thing. Hermione should really discipline him."

"Yeah."

Silence. Harry wanted to crawl out of his body.

"How's Quidditch?"

Harry suppressed a groan. It was slightly more personal but still not something they should have to ask. "Good. We haven't had a practice in awhile because Ravenclaw stole our slot last week."

"That's too bad," Draco sympathized.

They lapsed in to silence again.

"How's Quidditch been for you?"

"Alright. Montague got in the way of a bludger and broke his leg, so he was out last practice."

This was officially horrible. A picnic had been an awful idea. Why had he ever listened to Hermione? There was nothing to do but talk. If they had been in the Three Broomsticks, they could have at least pretended to people watch. Here, their only distraction was flora.

But they shouldn't need distractions. They had always had plenty to talk about. Anything and everything had been available for their scrutiny. This wasn't how things were supposed to be.

In his desperate search for conversation topics, Harry once again remembered what Hermione had said. He should talk to Draco about this awkwardness. It was clear. There was no hiding it anymore; no pretending it didn't exist. Maybe if they talked about it, it would go away.

Or, that annoying bit of his brain reminded him, it might get worse. That was what was holding him back. Draco was his best friend and it seemed like they were growing apart. He would do anything to keep him as a friend. Of course, there was the gamble. Did he risk further embarrassment and discomfort by discussing their problem, or just give it his best effort and surge forward.

In the end, his desire to end the silence made the decision for him.

"Draco, I think we need to talk about this," he felt his body temperature rise, as he shifted in to panic mode.

"About what?" Draco seemed understandably wary.

Harry surged. "About why this is so bloody miserable." When Draco didn't say anything, he continued. "We can't talk anymore, and we can't even be in the same bloody room without either snogging or running away."

"You've been talking to Hermione," Draco murmured, examining his hands closely, to avoid meeting Harry's eyes.

"I have, but you know she's right."

"I'm not an idiot."

There was a long stretch of silence. They weren't even graced with a breeze or a bird whistle. Harry hadn't realized that he would have to know what to say after the obvious point had been brought up.

"I just think we should fix it," Harry muttered, when he realized he truly didn't know what to say.

"And how do you propose we fix it?" Draco repeated his words mockingly, but Harry didn't take offence. He knew him well enough to understand that it was a defence mechanism. Draco was just as nervous and upset as he was, and it was coming out through his tone.

"I think we should probably stop seeing each other."

Harry sucked in a breath. He didn't know where that had come from. He hadn't known what to say, and that had just popped out. But maybe it was true.

No, he knew it was true. They couldn't keep up this relationship. It was ruining their friendship. It was for the best.

At Draco's blank, unbelieving stare, Harry looked down at his lap. Had they not been on the same page? Was Draco not expecting that? It was the clear solution. If sex was the problem, remove the sex, and you had no problem. Well, perhaps a little residual problem, but it was the first step.

"What do you mean?" Draco sneered. "You don't want to see me anymore?"

Harry then realized that it had probably been a poor choice of words.

"No, well, I don't want to not see you anymore, just that... I think we should limit our 'seeing' time to friends stuff," he stumbled through the sentence, not sure it made sense to even himself.

There was another long pause during which Harry contemplated throwing himself out of the Astronomy Tower. He wondered if he could make it all the way there before somebody stopped him. This was horrible. Not one person had benefitted from this, but they had managed to hurt each other in their attempt to make the relationship work. Harry couldn't see how Draco would possibly want to continue this farce.

"Right," the blonde eventually said. "That makes sense. Hermione's a bright girl. Let her know that her efforts did not go unappreciated." He stood up, dusting off his already spotless black robe. "I'll just be going inside."

"Draco, wait," Harry said, standing and grabbing the other's arm. "Don't be upset with me, you know it's for the best. This clearly wasn't going anywhere good." He looked searchingly in to deep gray eyes, asking him to understand.

"I know, I just want to go to the castle. I'm getting a bit cold," Draco said, shoving his hands in his pockets, in a way that surprised Harry. The blonde was normally very aristocratic. It lessened slightly when they were alone, but it had been so deeply engraved in him, that it was just a part of his personality now. Draco's awkwardness and erratic movements were unusual.

"Okay," Harry said cautiously, folding up the picnic, "I'll come with you, just give me a second."

"No, that's really alright. I'll see you later," Draco said, and hurried off.

Harry was left behind, staring as his friend walked quickly away from him, obviously wanting to put as much distance between them as possible. It seemed that this had been his position a lot lately.

He had taken Hermione's advice and talked to Draco. It clearly hadn't gone how she had meant for it to go. All he had managed to do was break up with his boyfriend, and thoroughly piss him off.

What if they didn't make up? There would clearly be some distance between them for awhile, but what if his fears came to life? One already had – they had broken up. It was a small step from there to never speaking again. What if that period of awkward tension after a breakup never passed?

He knew he needed to talk to Hermione. Poor Hermione.

OOOoooOOO

Draco was finding it rather difficult not to break in to a run. He wanted to get far away from Harry, and quickly.

He was trying extremely hard not to break in to tears right there on the lawn, although he knew it was just a matter of time.

It was ridiculous, he told himself. He had known they were going to break up. Known it wasn't forever. How could it be? The entire relationship had lasted a grand total of twenty three days, and every single one of those days had been miserable. That had clearly been a healthy relationship, he thought with a mental eye roll.

So why did he feel like dying? Why was his face was hot, his heart was hammering, and why, oh why did he feel overwhelmingly nauseous?

He had heard of the sappy romance novels some girls read. Pansy, in particular, seemed fond of them, and he had been an unwilling audience to some of her passage readings. He had thought the emotional speeches of heartbroken characters to be complete and utter shite. They had seemed so corny, so cliché. Suddenly, and perhaps most clichéd of all, they made sense.

Those women had been on to something. Rejection was a painful thing. And that was what it had been. Had somebody asked Draco for his opinion, he would have said they should stay together. He knew it wasn't working, but they should keep trying. How else would it work out?

Where they were now wasn't going to work, that much was clear.

When one person rejected another, going back to the informality of friendship was impossible. Draco cared for Harry more than Harry cared for Draco.

He had seen the confusion on Harry's face when he hadn't agreed straight away to regress to friendship. Like there was no reason to continue in a romantic relationship.

Draco wanted to hit himself. He knew his line of thinking was flawed, he just couldn't find it in himself to appreciate that fact. He knew it was better this way. He knew Harry still cared for him. But he wanted it back the way it was. And he wanted Harry to care just a little bit more.

He suddenly crashed in to a solid object, having been distracted by his churning emotions, and just managed to save himself from falling. His first thought was that he had walked in to a tree or something equally as embarrassing, but upon further inspection, it was even worse.

"Draco!" Sirius Black exclaimed in surprise, helping to steady him.

Draco swallowed hard, unable to believe his luck. Parents rarely visited, though they could sometimes be seen wandering the grounds with their children on weekends.

"Sirius," he said more tamely. After all, Sirius hadn't just broken up with him. "Remus," he acknowledged the tawny haired man, standing a few feet away.

"Draco," Remus said, advancing on the pair, "how have you been?"

"Pretty good, thanks, and you?" he replied. The response was automatic. He couldn't stop to examine his thoughts too long, in case he accidentally answered truthfully.

"Oh," Sirius said, glancing to Remus in a way that Draco couldn't interpret, "we've been fairly good, ourselves. Listen, you haven't seen Harry around, have you? I'd love to stay and chat, but we're supposed to be to Dumbledore's in a few, and I've looked everywhere for that boy. Besides, we're staying around a couple days, so I'm sure we'll be able to catch up."

"Definitely," Draco said, his aristocratic training taking over in his stress, "Harry should be over there. I just saw him," he said, pointing the two men in the right direction.

"Great, thanks, mate. See you around," Sirius said, ruffling his hair as he passed. Draco could barely find it in himself to be amused at Sirius' treatment of him.

He had always found it strange. Sirius treated he and Harry like the young men they were, but the animagus was typically more childlike than either of them. It was abnormal to Draco, whose father had always been a very strong, grown up male figure in his life.

He turned back to his original route in to the castle, strangely cheered though still not nearing happiness.

Draco wondered if he should talk to Hermione. He knew they weren't that close, but she clearly had some insight in to his life that he didn't. If she could share it with Harry, why not him?

Bugger it, he would just talk to Pansy.

OOOoooOOO

"Hey, Harry!" Sirius yelled as they caught sight of him.

He whipped around, still holding the picnic basket and his face broke in to a wide smile as he jogged over to them.

"Hey guys! How's it going?"

"We're good, good. What are you doing all the way out here? A picnic?" Sirius grinned slyly. "Were you out here with a girl?" He looked around expectantly, and Remus tried to contain his own smile.

Harry's face fell a little, to their mutual confusion. "No, just Draco."

Sirius thought back to Draco's dejected expression.

"Oh... Did you two have a falling out or something? He didn't look to be very cheerful either. What happened?" Sirius asked, in his usual, tact free manner.

"Nothing that can't be fixed," Harry said, his smile forced. "Anyway, more importantly, you two are here! I got your letter. Did you find out what Dumbledore wanted to talk to us about?"

Sirius decided to ignore the obvious subject change. "Not yet, no. We just got here – figured it would be better to find you before we spoke to Dumbledore. A decision, might I add, that has made us late for the meeting. So off we go, little boy." Sirius herded his godson around toward the castle, while Remus walked ahead with him. He couldn't hear their conversation, but judging by the look on Remus' face, he was digging for information.

He would have to get the scoop on that later. He'd always liked Draco quite a lot, despite the fact that he was Narcissa's son, and would be disappointed if they got in a row.

Actually, he'd lately thought that Harry perhaps harboured a bit of a crush on his best friend. He thought perhaps he was just projecting his own relationship on to Harry. After all, the whole world wasn't bisexual, just because he happened to be.

OOOoooOOO


	20. Chapter 20

"Good afternoon, Gentlemen," Dumbledore said, welcoming Harry, Sirius and Remus in to his office. "You had no trouble with your arrival, I trust?" He eyed the latter two, kindly.

"None, thank you, Albus," Remus replied, taking his seat in front of the headmaster's desk.

"I'm glad to hear it. Now, I regret to say this is not a social visit, nor will it be a particularly pleasant one."

Harry gulped. What if he was in trouble? Had he done anything particularly rebellious lately? No, his mind quickly supplied, he had been seeing Draco. And that hadn't worked out well. Oh, how badly that had gone. He felt his mind drift.

"Harry," Dumbledore addressed, "you needn't look so nervous. You've done nothing wrong. However, we do need to have a serious discussion about your immediate future."

Harry glanced at his guardians who were looking at Dumbledore seriously. He figured he had better do the same.

"Yes, sir?" he asked, trying to redirect his mind from Draco to the old wizard.

"I regret to have to tell you that we need to talk about Voldemort again. We have all been doing our best to exclude you from any plans, but it has become more and more obvious that you are needed. Now," he said, standing from his chair and pacing around the room, "there is no need to panic or make rash accusations," he glanced quickly at Sirius who had sat up furiously in his chair. "It is just of the utmost importance that you are aware of what you have inadvertently become involved in."

"Er, okay then," Harry said, feeling anxious despite Dumbledore's reassurances.

"You will remember our conversation about Voldemort's connection to your mind? And your subsequent Occlumency lessons?"

Harry reddened. He did remember the lessons with Snape, quite well, in fact. "Yes."

"You will be required to restart these lessons. I know they ended in upset, but unfortunate circumstances have outweighed them. You will need to start meeting with Professor Snape every other day, in order to further your skills."

He nodded his consent, as though he had a choice in the matter.

"But Professor, why is it suddenly important that we start again?"

"Ah," Dumbledore said, smiling sadly, "it appears that he has been made aware of your connection. There is some concern that he may begin to manipulate it. That is why I also feel it prudent to warn you of this. No vision or sight will come through that connection without Voldemort's knowledge and intent. What this means is that everything you see through that bond, will be because Voldemort wants you to see it. It must be taken with a grain of salt, in other words."

As Harry was digesting this, Sirius stood up.

"So what? You-Know-Who is just going to start sending visions to Harry?" he was flustered and probably outraged, although Harry was too jumbled to analyse the tone.

"That is exactly what we are trying to prevent, Sirius," Dumbledore said soothingly. "If everything goes to plan, Harry will not be seeing anything without his own eyes."

"Can Voldemort hurt him through this link?" Remus asked, a crease between his eyebrows.

"Not so far as we understand. If Harry's Occlumency is not up to par, then he experience some disturbing images, but nothing physically damaging."

This did nothing to ease the worry in his guardians faces.

"What you all need to know, is that Harry is in no immediate danger. If any visions pass through his shields, they will most likely be in an attempt to mislead the Light, not to damage Harry. Voldemort would not use such a link lightly."

"Right," Harry said, unable to articulate his feelings of fear and uncertainty.

"Now, Harry, if you would please make your way to the dungeons, Professor Snape is expecting you for your first lesson. All following lessons will take place every other day, following supper hour," Dumbledore said, bowing a slight bit to dismiss him.

OOOoooOOO

As the door closed behind Harry, Remus stood up to confront Dumbledore.

"What is going on, Albus? We haven't heard any of this about Harry, at the Ministry. Who are your sources?"

"Gentlemen, I have very reliable sources, and I would ask your cooperation in this matter. I have more to tell you before you leave, so if you would please take your seats?"

The three men sat down before continuing.

"The Order has been slowly reuniting over the past weeks, since Harry's attack. Discussions have taken place, in which we have decided to involve Harry as little as possible, due both to his childhood, and his connection with Voldemort."

Remus thought Sirius seemed pleased with this information, as he nodded stiffly.

"The less Harry knows, the less information about our plans Voldemort will have access to, so I would appreciate your discretion. That being said, I must tell you that Harry will be needed to destroy Voldemort's wand."

"What?" They both stood up at once, objecting strongly to the information. "That's too dangerous."

"He's just a child!"

"Why do you need him?"

"I understand that you are both protective of him, but I ask that you listen. Harry's wand is the brother to Tom Riddle's wand. He has built up several defences against the destruction of his wand, but all are useless, as always, against the wand's brother. The Order's current plan is to catch Voldemort alone, while he is still gaining strength, and incapacitate him to the point that we can disarm him. We will then bring the wand to Harry, who will destroy it, and leave us open to kill Voldemort."

Both men sat back down heavily. Was Harry the key to destroying the Dark Lord? How could that possibly be? He was too young for the responsibility. Although, Remus corrected, he had destroyed him once already, at the humble age of one.

"Will Harry be put in any danger?"

"No. He will be put in a dreamless sleep the night of our attack, so that he Voldemort will not be able to manipulate him. We will bring the wand straight to him. He will not need to leave his bed, if all goes to plan."

This put Remus at ease. Harry wouldn't be entering in to a battle situation. He would be safe at Hogwarts, asleep through the whole thing.

"When is this happening? Do you have a date in mind, or are you still planning?" Remus asked, wanting clarification now that he had accepted the idea.

"We are still waiting on a specific date, however, we do know that it will be soon. The sooner we act, the weaker Voldemort will be. Every day he gains power. Now that we have our forces gathered and Harry on board, it will be any day. Please remember that it is of the highest importance that Harry not be made aware of this. He cannot even know we are planning an attack."

"Okay," Sirius said, surprising Remus, who had thought he would have more questions. "So, where do you need us?"

OOOoooOOO

Harry left Snape's office feeling worse than when he had entered, which was a feat. When he had made his way to the dungeons, he had primarily been concerned with Voldemort and the possibility that he would enter his mind.

Now, as he left, he had far more pressing matters on his mind. Snape had seen some memories that, quite frankly, Harry would have preferred to skip. Such as Harry on top of Draco, in a clearly sexual position.

He had wanted to die, but it had somehow managed to get worse, as Snape saw the very recent conversation they had had, in which had Harry broken up with him.

He knew the whole point of Legilimency was to see what was on a person's mind, but honestly. Those things were simply too private to share with Snape. He couldn't believe he had to go back.

And now he was worried that he would run in to Draco in the dungeons, on his way back to the Tower. If there was one thing Harry wanted, it was to be alone. Things had happened extremely quickly that afternoon.

First, he had spontaneously broken up with his best friend, then he had met up with Sirius and Remus, after which he had been informed that the darkest wizard of their age could send him visions, and lastly, he had shared some very private memories with his least favourite person in the country.

Yes, Harry was having a marvellous day.

To his great relief, he didn't see Draco, and made it to the Tower without incident.

Once in bed, he didn't quite know what to do with himself. He didn't want to admit his feelings about their breakup, and was therefore not going to dwell on it.

He wasn't going to think about it. Not even for a moment. Because that would be pointless. Useless. Nothing could be gained from dwelling on the past. Draco probably wasn't thinking about it. He hadn't seemed too upset, just looked like he was fed up with Harry. And Harry was sure he was. He had ruined their friendship, after all.

But no, they would be comfortable with each other, given some time. How much time? How long did he have to wait before going to him again? But he wouldn't never be able to be with him again.

Never kiss him again. Never hold him. Harry loved running his hands through Draco's perfect, silky hair. He always had. But they probably wouldn't be able to go back to that. It would seem too personal. Too much like something a couple would do. And they couldn't go down that path again. That much was clear.

Harry wondered what Draco was doing. It hurt him that he couldn't just mirror call him. He felt a little alone. It felt like he didn't know Draco. That was ridiculous, of course. He knew everything about him. But he didn't know how he was feeling right then, or how he had felt about the last month. He knew nothing about that, and it felt wrong.

Harry managed to drift to sleep, ignoring the fact that it was supper time and he would most likely be rudely awoken in a few hours.

OOOoooOOO

He was, just as had been predicted, rudely awoken.

"Harry, mate? You in here?" It was Ron.

He groaned in to his pillow, letting Ron know where he was.

"Oh, hey. How was your date?" he asked, pulling back the curtains on Harry's bed to talk to him.

"Horrible," he said, slightly muffled.

"Hey, I'm sure it wasn't that bad. You're probably just being too hard on yourself."

"We broke up."

"Oh," Ron said, trailing off in to silence. Harry felt there had been too many awkward silences surrounding him lately. "Should I go get Hermione?"

"Merlin, please don't. I just want to relax, for once. I've been having a rough day. She'll either yell at me or pity me, and I don't particularly want either one." Harry finally turned in bed to look up at Ron, who was still standing above him.

"I really am sorry to hear it, mate. How did he take it?"

Ron had never possessed an incredible amount of tact, so Harry forgave him for the question. He found a part of him actually wanted to talk about it anyway. Maybe gain a third party perspective that wasn't the all knowing Hermione.

"I don't know. He didn't really react a whole lot, you know? Just kind of stood up, said Hermione was a bright girl, and went up to the castle. Do you think that's bad?"

Ron shrugged. "Did he seem upset, though?"

"Not really," Harry sighed. "He's always been like that, though. I mean, not usually with me, which is throwing me a bit, but he's all haughty, you know? I'm not sure he'd let me know if he was upset."

"Yeah, I guess." Ron clearly didn't have very much input.

"Remus was saying – oh, Sirius and Remus are visiting – he was saying that Draco had seemed a little upset. I guess they ran in to him. Maybe they could read him better than I could, who knows?"

It felt very strange to be speaking to Ron about this. Normally, any problems he had, he discussed with Draco first, Hermione second, and Ron, only if he'd really run out of advice givers. He wasn't known for being 'one with the words'.

"If you don't mind me asking, why did you break up?" Ron said, looking to Harry to make sure his question wasn't crossing any boundaries.

He sighed. "I'm not too sure. Well actually, it's because it wasn't going well. I'm just not sure why it wasn't going well," Harry said, picking at a loose thread on his bedspread. "You know we had stopped talking and everything, and today was almost worse. He asked me how I had been, for Merlin's sake."

"At least he was trying," Ron supposed. "Could have been worse. He could have not made an effort."

Harry frowned. That was true. At least they had both been trying. It wasn't as though they had given up. Except that he sort of had. Wasn't breaking up, just throwing in the towel? Admitting they couldn't do it?

Should he have tried harder?

He dropped his head to his hands, not sure what he was doing anymore.

Why was life suddenly so complicated? What had happened to the happy oblivion of before; occasional crushes, on girls, mind, Quidditch practice, pranking with Draco... Then he had suddenly been thrust in to the middle of a half formed and truly dysfunctional relationship with Draco, and somehow become involved in Voldemort's intimate life.

Add to that, the fact that he was reduced to discussing all these problems with Ronald Weasley. He loved the boy, but he was severely lacking in the advice arena.

"Just wait for the best part. You'll never believe the memory that bloody Snape just pulled from my head," he said, launching himself back on the bed, and exhaling hard.

OOOoooOOO


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Alright, so this is the last chapter I've pre-written. It's midterms at school so I'm a little overwhelmed at the moment. I'll try very hard to get another chapter out in the next two weeks, I promise!

Thank you all for the lovely reviews – I love reading detailed comments of your thoughts, so keep them coming!

OOOoooOOO

A week had passed since Harry had broken up with Draco.

A very long week.

Occlumency lessons with Snape had brought Harry's life to a near standstill, as each moment was spent either having his mind raped, or in hateful anticipation of his next lesson. The fact that he hadn't spoken to Draco was just adding to his angst.

They had made brief eye contact the day after the incident, but Draco had quickly looked away, and never looked back. That was the last communication he had had with his best friend.

But that was okay. This was the awkward period after a breakup. They weren't supposed to immediately go back to being best friends... But they might have spoken. Harry had made every effort to speak with him, besides actually speaking to him. He had looked at him often, hoped and prayed, and even dreamed about him.

Okay, so maybe he hadn't made every effort.

The last resort, which he was trying to avoid, was using his mirror. He wouldn't be able to cope if Draco didn't answer his call. And if he did, what would they talk about? There would be no excuse to leave if things were awkward.

But he should probably do it anyway, right?

He hadn't spoken to anybody about what had happened. Ron was the only one who knew what was going on, which actually meant that Hermione would know as well. She had been surprisingly unobtrusive, though. She hadn't said a word to him, just thrown many a pitying glance his way. He wished she would stop.

It was for this reason that he eventually decided to speak with her about it.

"Hermione," he said when they were alone together in the Common Room that night, "what do you think I should do about Draco?"

She glanced up from her Transfigurations essay, and adopted an innocent expression. "What do you mean? Is something wrong?"

Harry rolled his eyes. She was brilliant, yes, but a horrible liar.

"I know Ron told you about Draco, Hermione. And you clearly have an opinion if your body language is anything to go by."

Hermione reddened slightly but seemed placated to know that she wouldn't have to lie. "Of course I have an opinion. You didn't take my advice and now everything is balls up."

Harry was slightly surprised to hear her use such language, but quickly recovered.

"I did take your advice! I talked to him!"

"No," she said up, becoming a little hostile, "you didn't. You broke up with him to avoid talking to him. That is not what I recommended. You didn't tell him how you felt, you just took the easy way out. And now look what's happened; you've stopped speaking altogether."

Harry spluttered. "I did not take the easy way out! You think it was easy telling him we should break up? You should have seen his face," he grimaced at the memory. "Trust me, it wasn't easy to hurt him."

Her face had fallen, as pity once again took over.

"Please don't be like that," Harry said, noticing her expression, "I don't want you to feel badly for me, I just want your advice. And maybe I'll actually take it this time." He smiled weakly, making a joke.

OOOoooOOO

Pansy sighed. Draco just couldn't let this go. He had been on and on about it for the past week, and she was becoming a little concerned.

She had personally always felt rather ambivalent about Harry Potter being his best friend. She had initially thought that perhaps that position should have been reserved for a Slytherin, but everyone had gotten used to it years ago.

That is, until he had broken Draco's heart.

She and Blaise were the only ones to know about their progressing relationship and as such, were the only support he now had.

Which meant that she had heard a lot about Harry.

A lot.

And now he was at it again.

"I don't understand why we couldn't talk about things. He is being such a bloody moron. So we weren't talking, so what?" It was obvious that Draco was fuming. His face was tinged pink in his anger and he was gesturing gracelessly, a sure sign of distress.

Pansy had never seen him act so plebeian as in the past days. They couldn't allow the other Slytherins to catch on to what was happening. Lucius Malfoy, who had always remained openly neutral about his son's friendship with Harry Potter, would not be impressed if this news got back to him.

"Well, why aren't you talking to each other yet? It's been long enough. Just go up and say hi," she said for the seventh time. She had been advising him to do this everyday and he had yet to listen to her. She hated men. If this was an insight in to a male perspective on relationships, she was going to go proposition the first woman she saw.

"No, it would be too awkward. Why would anything have changed? We still wouldn't be able to have a conversation or anything." Standard excuse.

"Just pretend he's the old Harry. You always used to talk about everything. Start a conversation about cheese, for Merlin's sake. You could even bring a list with you." Standard response. She knew what was coming, too. He would just sink deeper in to his woes about how everything had changed. How nothing was the same. And how he had no idea how it had happened.

She refused to listen to that again. She had realized something, halfway through the week. He was acting very much like a rejected girl, except he was also being too much like a man. He was sad, hopeless, and abandoned, but he wasn't willing to do anything to better his situation. And she could kill him for it.

Maybe she could do something herself, she suddenly considered. He clearly wasn't ready to get off his arse, so maybe she could. If nothing else, it would stop him talking to her for a little while.

The main problem with this unformed plan was that she had never had much contact with Potter, or any of the Gryffindors in general. Where would she find an ally?

OOOoooOOO

Hermione was trying not to hit Harry. Really, she was. It was just becoming more and more difficult as the seconds passed.

If he wasn't moping around silently with a desperate look in his eyes, he was complaining about why Draco wouldn't talk to him. He couldn't understand why is had been a week with no contact. How that was the longest they had ever gone without speaking, even including their Great Fight of 1994. And how he couldn't even talk to Sirius about it because he had been lying to him.

Harry had said something about perhaps telling Remus, who seemed to know that something was going on anyway. The idea had quickly been nixed, as Remus would surely tell Sirius.

That had quickly tumbled in to a rant about how nobody took him seriously.

Hermione was one tirade away from marching down to the dungeons and dragging Draco up herself. She knew that probably wouldn't be the best idea, in terms of mending their relationship, but it would at least get Harry off her back.

No, she scolded herself, she had to do what was best for Harry. Even if it meant a few more homicidal thoughts on her part.

OOOoooOOO

Hermione in the library, several Potions books laid out in front of her.

She couldn't seem to understand the correlation between salamander's skin and dragon bile. They could be used interchangeably in more than one potion, and she had yet to come across a description of the properties of either. It was driving her mad. How could they both be missing from so many texts? It didn't make any sense.

Just as she was reaching for another book, a hand come out of nowhere, holding a heavy volume.

"I think this is what you're looking for," Pansy Parkinson said from the other end of the arm.

At first, Hermione was shocked. They had never spoken a word to each other before. Well, that was not strictly true, but they weren't exactly on offering-textbooks-out-of-random-kindness terms, either.

It didn't take long before she understood exactly what was happening. Of course. Draco must be driving Parkinson up the wall. She had spent a long time considering the problem between the two – probably longer than was necessary – and she knew that Draco must be either absolutely and utterly pissed, or incredibly sad.

Either way, Pansy would be the unfortunate target of said emotion.

They could work something out.

"I have a proposition for you, Granger," Pansy said coolly and, if Hermione was not mistaken, a little apprehensively.

"Yes?" She cheered mentally, glad they were on the same wavelength.

"I imagine you've already guessed that this has to do with Draco and Potter." She waited for confirmation, to which Hermione gave a slight nod. She continued, "I think we can work something out. It should get Draco off my back and Potter off yours."

Hermione allowed a curve of her lips, "What did you have in mind?"

OOOoooOOO

Remus glanced surreptitiously at Sirius. He didn't know what to do. The situation with Voldemort was weighing heavily on his mind. Dumbledore had asked them to follow him in to battle and they had both agreed, Sirius a little hesitantly. Remus knew that he was afraid of leaving Harry on his own. He wanted to live for Harry.

And, as the Headmaster had made clear, there was the possibility of death on this mission.

Death.

It was something Remus faced frequently, with his lycanthropy. The transformation, even with his Wolfsbane, was wearing his body down and every full moon was a risk.

But Sirius wasn't ready to die. And Remus wasn't ready for him to die.

He was his last remaining Marauder, and to be without him would be a fate worse than death. He didn't know what he would do. Actually, Remus corrected, he knew that either of two things would happen. He would either follow him to his death, or he would stay around for Harry, trying to forget all about Sirius. Neither option sounded pleasant.

And so his musings brought him to the present.

To be frank, he wanted to sleep with Sirius.

Yes, he knew that the statement negated everything about their current relationship, but he couldn't help it. He had always been careful in sexual relationships, never to get too close because he knew they would eventually leave him. They always did. But he'd loved Sirius for years.

He just wanted one night, before the raid. Who knew if they would both come out alive, or if the Light would even succeed? This could be their last chance. And he knew he would regret it for the rest of his life, if something happened to Sirius, and he had never made his feelings known.

On the other hand, the annoying side of his brain reminded him, if everything went swimmingly, if the Light won, and they both left without a scratch, then he would regret it horribly.

He truly didn't know which voice to listen to.

There wasn't even the usual inkling.

Perhaps he could broach the subject to Sirius. Discuss it with him; see what he thought.

But no. He didn't even need to consider that, really. Because Sirius would do one of two things. He would either jump at the opportunity, and take advantage of the situation, or he would quickly dismiss it, not understanding where Remus was coming from. Either way, his opinion would be invalid.

Not invalid in the sense that he didn't have any say in the matter. Remus' mind quickly scrambled to correct that word choice. They would only sleep together if Sirius wanted to, obviously, just that the reasons behind Remus' advances would probably be better left unspoken.

"Moony, you alright?" Remus jumped as the voice intruded on his thoughts.

"Mhm, never better." He nodded.

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe you."

"Why not?" Remus asked, surprised at the accusation, even if it was true.

"Because nobody could be perfectly fine, facing what we're facing. I know you're thinking about tomorrow night."

Tomorrow night. The night The Order was scheduled to attack Voldemort. Their spies had reported that he would be guarded by only the most necessary Death Eaters that night, and would have few defences.

Which was why, Remus reasoned, it had to be tonight. If anything was going to happen, it had to happen soon.

"You're only partially right," he replied, thinking that he was somehow more preoccupied with tonight than tomorrow.

"So something is bothering you!" Sirius seemed a cross between concern and triumphant. A strange combination on anybody other than him.

Remus decided it would be easiest to ignore him. When Sirius got in one of his moods, that was typically the only answer.

He tried to imagine himself in each situation.

If he slept with Sirius, he would be happy for a few hours. They would have a pleasant night, but the next day, it would be clear why he had done it. Sirius would know that it was because he was afraid. Remus would have to back out on his condition of taking it slowly. And then, if they both came through the other side in the fight, what would they do?

Would they continue sleeping together? If they didn't it would become even more evident that he had done it out of desperation. And if they did, they would have taken a step that Remus wasn't ready for.

If he didn't sleep with Sirius and nothing happened tomorrow, then everything would be lovely. Perfect. However, if something did happen, and Sirius was injured or... He couldn't even think the word, then he would regret it.

But he was an optimist, or liked to think he was, anyway.

They could wait. Things could turn out absolutely perfectly if they didn't sleep together. Every other scenario contained pain and sorrow, so he would stick with his happy version, thank you very much. And things would turn out perfectly.

"Padfoot," he said, interrupting his friend's continuing rant, "let's go out to dinner, tonight."

OOOoooOOO

So, as you can see, not a whole lot happened this chapter.

As I've already stated, this story is not going to revolve around Voldemort, because Harry isn't deeply involved in this world. There will be some amount of focus on Harry's life immediately following Hogwarts. He will be graduating in a couple chapters (if all goes to plan).

Anything you'd like to see more/less of? Now is the time to speak up; while I'm not ahead in chapters :)


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Well I got my H1N1 flu shot today, after long debate. My arm is pretty much feeling like it's going to fall off, so I think I deserve a little more appreciation than average for typing this out. Well, also the fact that I typed it after having waited 6 hours in line. That was horrendous.

Okay, boring look in to my life is over. Hope you enjoy!

OOOoooOOO

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Hermione worried her lip. She and Pansy had finally come up with, what they considered to be, a fine plan. They had each needed to sleep on the ideas, and meet again the following day, but they had at last reached a consensus.

"I think so. It should work. They're both the jealous type. And, this has the added bonus of being a classic. Classics are classic for a reason," Pansy said, her brow furrowed in concentration. They both wanted to make sure they knew what they were doing.

They were going to play off the jealous instincts. Hermione was to set Harry up with somebody, and Pansy was to do the same for Draco.

Through discussion they had realized that, although it was slightly obvious, this was the perfect plan. The boys were sure to realize that what they had together was special, and get over these minor upsets. Right?

They both figured that this approach would work. There was always the possibility of the jealousy not bringing them together, rather, pushing them further apart, but that didn't seem likely. Harry and Draco had such a history together that Hermione was sure they would remain close.

It had been decided that both boys would be set up with girls. Neither had shown any real interest in men before each other, so it was more appropriate. Also, this made it less likely that they would compare their date to each other.

All in all, Hermione thought their plan had some merit.

"Thanks for helping with this, Pansy. I wouldn't have been able to do this without you," Hermione said, smiling at the girl she had bonded with in the past days.

"Please," Pansy raised an eyebrow, "this is just as much for me as it is for you. I honestly don't think Draco would have survived the week if we hadn't gotten together. And I quite enjoy life outside Azkaban, thank you very much." A small smile reached her eyes.

"So when shall we set this up? You want to set them up tonight, yes?"

"Right. Find the girl and tell her tonight. I think Susan is likely to agree, for Harry. Now I just have to find someone for Draco. You know," Pansy said, squinting her eyes thoughtfully, "I almost feel bad. It's going to be hard to find a girl who is willing to be used like this. They tend to think Draco's quite the catch."

"I know. I'm glad Susan is so taken with Seamus, otherwise I'd feel guilty. But I'll just explain to her that it works to her advantage as well. She shouldn't mind doing Harry a favour."

"I wish I had a girl in mind. Perhaps I'll just advertise." Pansy grinned and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Whatever you do, do it discreetly. Harry has to believe it."

"Of course. Hermione, my dear, you underestimate me."

OOOoooOOO

"Legilimens!"

Harry threw his head back, and it whacked against the stone wall. He didn't feel the pain; he was much too focussed on the mental attack.

It was almost a physical feeling; Snape pressing against the walls of his newly formed shield. He prodded and poked, trying to find cracks. And there were cracks.

Harry felt as Snape dug in to one such, and pried it open, revealing the contents of his mind to his tormenter.

Memories poured out once more. It was pointless trying to maintain his dignity in front of Snape by this point and he just let them come.

Snape knew more about him than anyone else. They had only had about seven Occlumency lessons in total, but that was the catch of Legilimency. He couldn't help but think of the memories he didn't want the other to see. It brought his secrets to the forefront of his mind, ripe for Snape's picking.

And pick them, he did: every emotional outburst he'd had in the past few weeks, every sexual encounter he'd had with Draco, and perhaps worst of all, the overwhelming depression he'd sunk in to recently. His weaknesses, all laid bare.

Harry suddenly felt the presence in his mind retreat, leaving his thoughts as his own. It left him shaky, as always, and he leaned against the wall as he returned to awareness.

"That is all for today," Snape said, turning and leaving the room rather abruptly.

Harry was used to it now. Somewhere in the middle of the week, things had changed between them. He wasn't quite sure exactly what had happened, but Snape treated him discernibly differently now. There were no jabbing remarks about his father, and the ones directed towards him had tapered off, too.

He didn't particularly care to analyze the reason. The important thing was that it had stopped. Something in his life had been made moderately less stressful, and for that, he was thankful. No analysis needed.

Straightening his clothes, and running a useless hand through his hair, he made his way back up to Gryffindor Tower. His friends would no doubt be there, awaiting his return so they could press their presence on him, as was the routine.

Wake up late, miss breakfast, sleep through classes, play idly with supper, Occlumency, ignore persistent worries from friends, stay up all night thinking about Draco.

Yes, life was good.

To his surprise, however, the Common Room was near empty when he arrived. Hermione sat there, with her books open as per usual, but other than a small group of first years speaking quietly in the corner, she was alone.

"How was your lesson?" she asked as he approached wearily.

"Fine. Where is everybody?"

"Oh," Hermione said, looking around surprised, "I didn't notice. I guess they went to bed?"

Harry couldn't tell if she was lying or not, which in itself, spoke for his sheer exhaustion.

"Anyway, I guess it's for the best. I wanted to walk to you about something," she said, patting the seat beside her.

Merlin. She had been lying. Of course there was something she wanted to talk to him about. No doubt a lecture on pulling himself from his depression and looking at the world as a generally more positive place. Maybe starting a journal. He rolled his eyes and sat down.

"Now, I know you've gotten in to this funk about Draco."

Here we go, thought Harry.

"So I thought to maybe set you up with someone. You know, so you can move on and see that it's not the end of the world."

Oh. He hadn't been expecting that.

Move on? Was that really what Hermione wanted him to do? He'd thought that she would suggest talking to Draco – trying to get back together. That was the sort of advice he could have ignored, as it had been thrust at him too frequently lately.

But this was new. Should be move on? Did he want to? He always scoffed at his friends' when they talked about how he should try to fix things with Draco, and get back together. But maybe he'd taken that for granted.

Maybe he'd always assumed that they would get back together. After all, how could they not? How could he and Draco go back to being just friends?

He knew that he was a walking contradiction, but nothing had been clear lately. He didn't know if it was the Occlumency, the lack of sleep, or the stress. Or perhaps all three.

Harry knew he should be taking Hermione's advice. After all, hadn't he pleaded with her to advise him, just days ago? Well, here she was, telling him what he ought to do.

It was time to listen.

"Okay."

Hermione perked up, a smile brightening her face. "Really?"

"Sure. It's probably time I listen to your advice," he shrugged a shoulder.

He probably imagined the spark of doubt that crossed Hermione's eye. After all, it didn't fit.

"Okay," she said slowly, as if weighing each word, "Well I've spoken to Susan Bones and she's agreed to go to Hogsmeade with you this weekend."

"Agreed to go? That doesn't sound very promising," Harry said doubtfully. She hadn't coerced the poor girl, had she?

"Well, yes I probably didn't say that properly. She'd like to go with you. If you want. I know it might be weird, because you're not exactly close or anything, but I was thinking that might help. Take away from the awkwardness. It wouldn't feel anything like dating a sister, you know, because you haven't been friends with her..." Hermione rambled.

"Mione! Stop talking. I'll go." Harry couldn't believe her. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen her this discombobulated over something so small. And it didn't help that she was just reminding him of what had gone wrong between him and Draco.

Not that he needed reminding, of course.

"Great," she clapped her hands once. "I'll let her know tomorrow. Thanks for doing this Harry – I know you'll have a good time. She's a really sweet girl, and it should give you some new priorities. Put things in perspective. That sort of thing."

"Yeah, Hermione. Thanks for setting it up," he said, in what he hoped was a sincere tone. He would have preferred to wallow in pain a little while longer, but his decisions hadn't been paying off lately. It was time he handed the decisions in his life over to someone perhaps more qualified.

Almost as if hearing this plea to have others control his life, McGonagall came through the portrait.

She looked around for a moment before zeroing in on the couple on the couch.

"Ah, Mister Potter. I'm glad to find you here. Would you come with me, please? The Headmaster has asked to see you."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, befuddled. It was quite late in the evening for a meeting.

"Now, if you'd please," the professor said, with an edge to her demand.

"Right, sorry." Harry scrambled off the couch and followed her, throwing a last look at Hermione, who's brow was wrinkled in worry.

It was only when they passed Dumbledore's office that Harry's curiosity boiled over.

"Where are we going, Professor? I thought Dumbledore wanted to see me."

"He does. However, he is waiting for you in the hospital wing." She didn't turn around to answer.

Harry's heart clenched. Who was in the hospital wing, that Harry was concerned? Was it Sirius or Remus? Ron? Maybe that was where the Gryffindor's had been.

"Why in the hospital wing? Is somebody hurt?"

"Oh, no." McGonagall seemed taken aback at this interpretation. "There is nothing to worry about at the moment, Potter. He would just like to discuss something with you, I believe."

Harry had never been so confused. Dumbledore wanted to discuss something with him in the hospital wing, shortly before curfew? His worries about somebody being injured had not been completely allayed. He felt stress and fearful anticipation run through his veins. This past week could not possibly have been good for his heart.

They finally reached the wing, after what seemed like an eternity. McGonagall left him at the doors with a small smile, and he went inside.

Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey were the only two inside, to his immense relief. Nobody was hurt.

"Ah, Harry. Thank you for joining us," Dumbledore greeted politely. The familiar twinkle was gone from his eye.

When Harry just nodded his head in reply, Dumbledore continued.

"I am sorry to have to do this, but I must ask you to trust me."

"Of course," Harry replied immediately. He did trust the man. And after all, hadn't he just decided that he wasn't the best decision maker?

"Thank you," he grinned gently. "Then I must ask you to take this potion. It is nothing but a dreamless sleep. I don't believe you have encountered this particular potion before?"

"No, sir."

"It is not dangerous in the slightest. The only serious risk is that the user may become dependent on it after several uses. And I assure you, Harry, this is a one time use." He smiled. "It will simply allow you to fall in to a deep and dreamless sleep, one which cannot be interrupted. You will awaken after around six hours. The time passes in an instant."

"Okay," Harry said, still absolutely confused. Why would he have to take this? What was happening? What could possibly require him to fall unconscious for six hours? How would that benefit anybody?

Although, that being said, he didn't mind. An escape from his troubles? Six hours where his body and mind could rest, without the ever present stress. Maybe that was the cause. Dumbledore had seen how tired he had been for the past week and decided to help him.

It seemed implausible, but it was the only explanation he could grasp.

It must be a favour.

"Thank you for trusting me. I am in your debt." He nodded to Madame Pomfrey, who bustled off to the next room, returning with a vial of royal purple potion.

"You will want to change in to pyjamas after swallowing the potion. It takes effect quite quickly, so I've already set up a bed and curtain for you. Pyjamas are under the pillow," the woman said, handing him the potion and shooing him towards a sectioned off bit of the room.

As he changed in to his pyjamas, he contemplated how quickly everything seemed to be happening. Just ten minutes ago, he had been agreeing to a date with Susan Bones. Now, he was completely out of his depth.

Dumbledore was asking him to sleep, as a personal favour, and he was being handed a potion he'd never heard of before.

Perhaps everything would make sense in the morning.

He swallowed the potion and climbed in to bed. Dumbledore peeked around the curtain and smiled sadly.

"I'll see you when you wake, Harry. Sleep well."

The Gryffindor closed his already aching eyes, and dropped blissfully from awareness.

OOOoooOOO

Please review! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, so hopefully you enjoyed reading it! I'm a little nervous to write the next chapter because there's going to be a little more drama than I'm typically used to. Wish me luck!


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: I'm not getting enough reviews to maintain my ego... For some reason, like two chapters ago, my review numbers just started plummeting. So please, if you read and enjoy, REVIEW! 330 of you have this story on alert, and I got 8 reviews last chapter. That's all I'm saying.

On that note, thank you to all the people who do review! I love reading each and every one.

P.S. You guys are a suspicious lot, eh? It was just a sleeping potion! Jeez...

OOOoooOOO

Last Chapter...

He swallowed the potion and climbed in to bed. Dumbledore peeked around the curtain and smiled sadly.

"I'll see you when you wake, Harry. Sleep well."

The Gryffindor closed his already aching eyes, and dropped blissfully from awareness.

OOOoooOOO

What seemed like seconds later, Harry felt consciousness slam back in to his body. It was an unpleasant feeling. Not at all comparable to a natural morning, where one would wake up slowly. Instead, he was forced to full alertness immediately.

He wouldn't be taking dreamless sleep again in the near future. How people could become reliant on such a feeling was beyond him.

As suddenly aware as he was, he immediately noticed his surroundings.

Dumbledore, looking more haggard than he seemingly had any right to, was standing by his bed. Hadn't the man just been smiling at him from behind that very curtain?

No, his mind reminded him, he had been unconscious for the preceding six hours. Of course the world had gone on around him.

"Sir," he asked, his voice catching in his throat, "what happened? Why are you bleeding? What's wrong?"

"Harry," Dumbledore replied in a tense voice, "I'm afraid I must ask one last favour of you."

He held out a wand.

Harry almost laughed. The wand was charred and smoking in what would have been a comical way, if not for the fact that Harry couldn't imagine what had happened to the wizard who owned it. That, and the seriousness that, uncharacteristically, seemed to be emanating off Dumbledore

"What?"

"I must ask that you destroy this wand immediately."

Harry reached instinctively towards the wand, but recoiled as Dumbledore moved it from his reach.

"Who's wand is it?" It was illegal to destroy another wizard's wand. Once again, Harry was struck with how quickly everything was happening. And nothing had been explained to him yet. Everyone else had had six hours to come to terms with whatever it was that Harry had slept through, and now Dumbledore was acting very strangely, asking him to commit an offense.

"This wand belonged to Tom Riddle. He has died tonight, and it is very important that you destroy this wand as soon as possible." Harry opened his mouth to ask his next question, but was cut off by Dumbledore's pre-emptive answer.

"I cannot do this because there are enchantments that prevent anyone but you from doing this. Your wand is this wand's brother. They both contain the only two tail feathers a particular phoenix ever donated."

Harry stared at him blankly. He felt as though he wasn't appreciating this situation fully. Should he be as frazzled as the Headmaster was? He didn't see the importance. So he would destroy the wand. The wizard was dead anyway, so it wouldn't be a crime.

"Okay," he said slowly, glancing at the wand that the older man still held from his grasp.

"Thank you, Harry. Trust me when I say that this is the last thing I will be asking of you," he said, gently laying the wand on Harry's sheet covered legs.

Harry grabbed his own wand from the nightstand and looked to Dumbledore for guidance.

"A simple Reducto should do the trick."

He looked at him strangely before aiming his wand and taking a deep breath. He couldn't justify the anxiety he was feeling, other than Dumbledore's strange intensity. Why was it so vitally necessary that this wand be destroyed? And what connection could this possibly have to Harry's forced slumber?

"Reducto."

OOOoooOOO

Pain.

"Sirius, can you hear me? Sirius!"

He could hear him. He could, he wanted to scream. But he couldn't move. Pain.

"Siri, don't do this! This isn't the time to joke around!"

He wasn't. There was no joke here. How could Remus think that? They were in St. Mungos, after all. Weren't they? Where else would Remus have taken him when they apparated?

Throbbing pain.

"Merlin, Sirius!"

Remus sounded like he was choking back tears. Sirius wished he could help; wished he could reassure him that everything would be fine. But he couldn't move. He couldn't open his eyes. And he most assuredly couldn't wipe away any tears. Not when he was in this much pain.

What had happened? He could remember duelling with Bellatrix, and then hearing a cry of pain from Remus. Then everything went black. He hadn't been able to move since. What had that bitch hit him with? Knowing her, it was something horrendous. The searing and spreading pain supported that.

It had started in his lower rib cage, where he assumed the curse had hit, and had now, what seemed like an eternity but had probably been about half an hour later, spread along his entire abdomen and up through his left shoulder.

It felt like fire. Jagged knives of fire, piercing through his skin, tearing at his organs.

But at least they were at St. Mungos now. They could take care of him. Remus wouldn't have to worry much longer.

OOOoooOOO

Remus was at a loss. He couldn't do anything. Helpless. He thought that he was perhaps in shock, himself.

He could only watch as mediwizards scrambled around his best friend, muttering to themselves and their colleagues about the extensive injuries.

Remus could hardly stand to look. Sirius had been completely torn up. A broken leg through the skin, a cracked skull, one hand smashed beyond recognition, and the other arm split open. Blood gushed everywhere, the source of any particular bleed unknown.

He knew they're primary focus was to stop the bleeding, but he wished they would mend his bones. The sight of his friend so broken was too much to bear. Sirius was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to be a rock; confident and narcissistic.

Remus forced down his rising bile.

Time crawled past, as he wondered if Sirius was conscious. If he was feeling the pain of the blood and the bones.

The bleeding had finally stopped. The mediwizards took a step back and caught their breath. Sirius lay still.

Then three of the five men left, presumably to occupy themselves with the influx of patients that night, while the other two worked to mend his broken bones.

Some, Remus noticed hazily, had to be vanished altogether. How would they regrow them, if Sirius couldn't take potions?

"Wait," one of the mediwizards held up a hand to stop the other.

"What is it?" They both had blood smeared all other their white healing robes.

"What's this?"

They were examining Sirius' abdomen. He couldn't see from where he was standing, but the expressions of the two men told him that perhaps he didn't want to. He couldn't handle this. Why did they friends and family in here? Did they even know he was here?

"I've never seen this before. Call Morison. Quickly."

OOOoooOOO

"Reducto."

As soon as Harry spoke the word, he understood Dumbledore's anxiety. The wand exploded, but something shot out of the core. Something almost ethereal. It was impossible that a ghost was contained within the wand, Harry thought, so what was it? A black translucent shadow floated in front of Harry and seemed to look right through him.

Then, suddenly, it shot forward, and passed through Harry.

He tried to scream, but he couldn't tell if he succeeded or not. The world closed in around him, and he couldn't breath. He couldn't see. His heartbeat thumped abnormally, offbeat and irregularly. It was all he could hear.

A splitting pain shot through his head and a great sadness abruptly took hold of him. It felt as though a weight had been placed on his heart and he felt despair. All hope was extinguished from the world.

He was falling in to darkness, and there was nothing to grab on to. He couldn't remember happiness. Pleasure. He knew the words, but had no associations.

He couldn't snap out of it. He couldn't wake up from the nightmare.

Then he felt cold. He started to shake, and he returned to his body. His hands were clammy and his hair was plastered to his forehead.

Harry opened his eyes in time to see the black shadow leaving him, and seemingly dissolving the in the air.

He leaned over the railing of the bed and vomited.

A hand on his back rubbed soft circles, as he lay back to his pillow.

"Harry," said the soft voice, "are you okay?"

He was still too caught up in the painful experience to look at Dumbledore. To do anything, really, but cry.

So he did.

OOOoooOOO

Harry woke up, naturally this time, to find different company.

"Draco?" he asked, his surprise buried in his yawn.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" the blonde asked, concerned.

"Fine, I guess. What are you doing here?" Harry avoided eye contact. It had been weeks since they had had a normal conversation, and he was a little thrown off by his sudden reappearance.

"Look," Draco said, rolling his eyes, "could we focus on you for a second? How do you feel? Seriously."

"What?" Harry asked, frowning. Why was Draco so concerned for him? How did he even know to find him here? Had Dumbledore told him? He knew he had cried, and yes, he was still quite curious as to what exactly had been in that wand. Not to mention why Dumbledore had made him destroy it.

"It's not every day my best friend kills Voldemort, so you know, I was a little concerned." Harry met Draco's sarcastic eyes in shock.

Not every day his best friend did what now?

"What?"

Draco wavered.

"What?" he echoed.

"No, what are you talking about?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"What do you mean?"

"Merlin, Draco. Are you drunk? I didn't kill Voldemort. Sorry." Harry didn't know whether to roll his eyes or call for Madame Pomfrey to check on his friend.

"But it's in the paper. And Dumbledore didn't say anything when I asked about it. So... what?" Draco stopped at Harry's look.

"The paper says I killed Voldemort? What did Dumbledore say?" Harry's mind was, at once, racing and standing still. He consciously knew that he hadn't killed anybody, but the back of his mind was running through everything that had happened in the past hours, trying to make connections.

"I just told you. He didn't say anything. But if it wasn't true, why wouldn't he deny it?" Draco seemed downright confused now. At least he wasn't alone anymore.

"Look, I think I would know if I'd killed Voldemort. I've been asleep in here. Dumbledore made me blow up some guy's wand." Harry had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The evil that had been released from that wand hadn't been normal. It couldn't have been a random wizard's wand. Could this be why it had been so urgent?

"Who's wand?" Draco had the same look that Harry imagined decorated his own face.

"Tom Riddle? I'd never heard of him."

"Me neither. But Harry, what if that was Voldemort's wand."

They both stopped in silence.

"Okay..." Harry said, swallowing hard. Had that black cloud been Voldemort? "But even if that were true, I still didn't kill him. I just destroyed his wand."

Harry suddenly remembered something, and all the blood drained from his face.

Dumbledore had said that the owner of the wand had been killed. He tried to mentally work it out, before jumping to any ridiculous conclusions.

Assume Dumbledore had lied, and the wand really belonged to Voldemort, who had been killed earlier that night. Except that some part of him rested in his wand. And Harry was the only one who could destroy the it, because he had the brother wand. So when he had reducto-ed the wand, Voldemort had been killed, and probably decided to reap some last havoc and fly through Harry on his way to hell.

At least, that was how Harry would choose to see it.

He looked at Draco, who was staring at him intensely. He frowned.

"I think I need to speak with Dumbledore."

OOOoooOOO

Hours later, Harry walked out of the Headmaster's office, completely floored. So he had done it. He had killed Voldemort. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You-Know-Who. The Dark Lord.

Harry Potter had killed The Dark Lord. Without even knowing it.

Draco stood up quickly from his spot of the floor.

"So?"

"Mm," Harry mumbled, "guess the papers were right."

"Merlin," Draco ran a hand through his hair. "And you're sure you're alright?"

Harry laughed. He didn't know what he felt. Relief. Terror. Embarrassment. Pride. Overwhelmingly, though, he felt happy that Draco was speaking with him. That fact was sure to make the following few days much easier.

He wasn't sure how the school would react to any of this, but at least he would have Draco by his side now.

He would have to wait to see what sort of relationship they would be maintaining, but at least it was a relationship.

OOOoooOOO

This was supposed to be a little hard to follow. None of the characters are thinking straight, either because of shock or pain. This will also be the most violent chapter in the fic. I'm much more a fan of emotional trauma than physical :) Remember to review, please!


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: This chapter is, for some reason, really divided up. I think it's just because a lot happens at the same time, and we have to jump from place to place to have them line up. Sorry if that makes it a little tricky to read, but I shouldn't think it will.

I'm really excited to get to this next bit of the story. We'll be much more on the proper path of the plot, rather than dealing with subplots and introductions of relationships. Can't wait!

P.S. The reason that Voldemort being defeated isn't such a huge deal to these people, is that hardly anyone knew he was back. Remember he hadn't been gaining forces or anything, so people were largely convinced that he was already dead. Hence the not-huge-news.

OOOoooOOO

As it turned out, being a hero wasn't nearly as different as Harry would have thought. And he thanked Hermione and Ron for that fact.

His initial reception in Gryffindor Tower after that night had been joyous and cheerful. But nobody had asked for an autograph, and nobody had been star struck. They had just seemed relieved to find him healthy, and ecstatic at the news.

Draco had left the Gryffindors to their party, stating that he would be in the dungeons if he was needed. Harry was already planning on mirror calling him that night. He couldn't believe how much he'd missed the boy, and they seemed to be on friendly terms now. Something Harry was eager to solidify.

He did find it slightly odd that Remus and Sirius weren't at Hogwarts with him for this. Were they just not concerned, because they'd heard he was alright? He would understand, of course, but he was put off by the fact that they weren't here for such an important moment in his life. Perhaps he should owl them.

But that seemed so impersonal.

He could most likely ask Dumbledore to use his floo. He'd always had a soft spot for his guardians, so he would probably allow it.

Right. First thing tomorrow, he would head to Dumbledore's office.

But for now, he thought as he took another sip of firewhiskey, he would just enjoy himself.

OOOoooOOO

Remus jolted awake from an uncomfortable and restless nap. His neck was positioned very awkwardly, as he had once again fallen asleep in the chair at St. Mungos.

He wondered briefly what had woken him up, before spotting Sirius moving around on his bed.

Remus jolted from his seat, unable to believe his eyes. His friend had been unconscious since they apparated to St. Mungos about twenty hours ago, without showing a sign of life.

He moved swiftly to his bed.

"Sirius?" he touched his bandaged arm lightly. "Are you awake?"

In answer to his question, he received a pained moan.

Remus fumbled for his wand, and pressed the tip to the call button next to the bed. Once a mediwizards arrived, he would feel better. He couldn't tell if Sirius was awake or not, but this was the most life he had shown in hours.

Moments later, a visibly weary witch raced in to the room. Remus felt a second of sympathy for the staff of St. Mungos. The number of casualties they must be dealing with that day was unthinkable. It had seemed as if half the Wizarding world had shown up at the battle the previous night.

"How can I help?" she asked.

"He started to wake up, I think. He hasn't moved since he was brought in, until now." Remus gestured jerkily toward the bed.

"I see," she said, picking up his chart. "Oh!" Her eyes darted to the bed in shock, as she read the notes.

Remus knew she had just realized that he was the patient the whole hospital had been talking about. The one who had been brought in with the Exuro curse.

He had nearly fainted when the mediwizards had explained what was wrong with Sirius. He had never before heard of this curse, which was saying something for a man who had travelled the world studying defensive techniques.

It was designed to literally burn a victim from the inside out, spreading like wildfire, unless it was caught early enough. And thank the gods, Sirius had been lucky. It had taken four hospital staff collectively three hours to completely nullify the burn, and another five hours to repair the damage already caused. They had told Remus that there would be some scar tissue surrounding the area, that they couldn't get rid of.

At that point, Remus hadn't cared. Sirius was safe. He was going to live. So what if he wasn't quite as flexible as he had been before? He himself had more scar tissue than he could account for, and it never bothered him in any way other than aesthetically.

The mediwitch was running diagnostic spells on Sirius, who had continued to react to the environment. He was shifting slightly, as if trying to find a more comfortable position, and his brows were creased.

Was he in pain? His internal organs were still on the mend, and he therefore hadn't been allowed any pain potions. Not that it had mattered when he was unconscious.

"How much longer before he can have potions for his pain?" Remus asked desperately.

The witch cast a tempus before answering, "He can actually have one as of three minutes ago. But no more for a few hours." She gave him a soft smile, most likely used to dealing with agitated visitors, and administered a potion with a flick of her wand. "He shouldn't even be in too much pain anymore. He's been mostly put back together. He'll just have a few bruises and minor lacerations that we won't repair until he's otherwise healthy. Can't do too much at once."

She patted him on the arm before heading to the door and turning.

"He'll be just fine. Let him rest, and call us again when he wakes up properly. It shouldn't be long now." She made one last note of the clipboard before hanging it on the hook and disappearing down the hall.

Remus sat down in his chair again, pulling it closer to the bed. He had been reassured by the fact that Sirius wasn't in too much pain. It did make him wonder at the expression on the man's face, though. He seemed displeased or anxious in some way.

Perhaps it was just a bad dream.

OOOoooOOO

Sirius was floating.

Not on a fluffy, comfortable cloud, but rather precariously, on nothing at all. He couldn't fall. If he fell, he would lose the small grip he had on heaven. At least, he thought it was heaven. He could hear Remus humming a soft lullaby, not too far from him, and the pain had all but disappeared.

Remus was alive, caring for him, and the burning – the horrible tearing, slashing, burning, was gone.

He never wanted to wake up from this dream.

But, he frowned. He wanted real-life-Remus to know he was okay. The last he'd heard from his boyfriend, he had been going haywire with worry. He wanted to reassure him that he was happy where he was. He wasn't suffering. That had been left in the real world.

He couldn't speak in this floating place. He couldn't do anything. But he could try.

'Remus,' he called.

Nothing.

'Remus!'

Hm. He thought he'd heard something that time, but maybe not.

'Reeemuuus!'

Oh! He'd heard that. It had been pathetically weak and muffled, but he'd made a sound. Now, the question remained: if you made a sound in the floating world, Sirius mused, did you make a sound in the real world? He giggled in his head. That sounded weird.

Wait, he giggled? Blacks didn't giggle.

Unless, that is, they were given pain potions.

He had never reacted well to those, ever since he was an infant. He was weakly allergic to the salamander eyes in them, and they made him giddy.

And Remus knew that, so he wouldn't have given him any. Or he would be a bad Remus. Bad, bad Remus.

He giggled again.

OOOoooOOO

Remus didn't know what to do.

Sirius' expression had changed in the last moments from a concentrated frown to a flighty grin. Was that a valid reason to call the mediwitch back? It wasn't normal for a patient to suddenly become exorbitantly happy, was it?

Granted, Sirius wouldn't be in pain anymore, now that he had taken a pain potion. Something nagged at Remus' mind, at that thought. Sirius had taken a pain potion.

Hm.

Oh!

Oh Merlin.

OOOoooOOO

Harry,

Please come to my office immediately following your reception of this owl.

Albus Dumbledore

Harry looked up from the letter in confusion. The party was still raging around him, showing no signs of slowing down. And he himself was a little tipsy. He hadn't been expecting Dumbledore to call him, especially when he had only left his office a few hours before.

He stood up, intent on answering the headmaster, only to overbalance and fall forward.

Hermione grabbed at him, laughing. "Harry, love, I think you've had enough to drink."

"I've got to go to Dumbledore's office," he said, careful not to slur his words, as he held up the letter.

Hermione's eyes widened in shock, and she giggled. Perhaps she'd had enough to drink, herself.

"You can't go! You're completely smashed!"

"I can't ignore him. Look, I'll be back in no time at all. You won't even miss me." He strode towards the door.

"Merlin, Harry. Just try to sober up before you see him." Hermione laughed and turned back to the party, as he stumbled out of the portrait hole. He looked both ways.

Where was his office, again?

OOOoooOOO

Harry fell out of the floo at St. Mungos. He was still trying to digest what Dumbledore had told him. The news that Sirius had been injured in the battle had sobered him up significantly, though not completely.

It was hard to hear. Harry hadn't even known that his Godfather had been involved in the battle. And Remus had as well, Dumbledore had told him. But he was fine. He was here with Sirius. And Harry had been given permission to visit with them for the night.

This was, of course, after giving Harry a strange glance, followed by an all too understanding look, when he fell over a chair upon entering the office.

He hurried up to the reception desk. "I'm here to see Sirius Black."

"Family?" the witch asked, without looking up.

"Godson."

"Room 564. Off the elevator, on the left."

Harry thanked her mentally for not holding a conversation. He was sure he wouldn't he able to right then. While the situation called for sober attention, the alcohol was still running through his blood and his mind kept drifting.

He just needed to find out that Sirius was okay. Once that was out of the way, everything could go back to fuzzy happiness.

The elevator took a lifetime to get to the fifth floor, and Harry flew out the moment it dinged open.

"Five sixty-four, five sixty-four," he chanted. It wouldn't do to forget the number, and unfortunately, in his current state, it was a very real possibility.

"Five sixty-four!" He'd found it.

He burst through the doors, not pausing to knock. The scene he found inside was an unexpected one. Sirius was sitting up in bed, very much awake, his head thrown back in laughter. Remus was sitting in the chair near the bed, looking on with amused disparagement.

"What's happening? Are you okay?" Harry blurted, unable to hold himself back.

"Oh!" Remus jumped and turned to face him. "Harry! We were about to owl you. Sirius is fine. He's just woken up."

"Harry!" Sirius yelled happily.

"Hi," Harry replied, grinning at the enthusiasm.

"I have to apologize on behalf of Sirius. He's taken a pain potion, and you know what those do to him," Remus said, taking Harry in for a hug. He stopped and sniffed. Harry tensed.

"Have you been drinking?" Suspicion laced through his words.

Harry tensed. Damn werewolf senses. Normally the floo trip would have covered the smell of firewhiskey.

It was quite a strict rule in the Black household that he not be allowed alcohol. He had always found it quite hypocritical of the two of them, as he knew for a fact that they had drank when they were his age. And before.

"We were celebrating!"

"Celebrating what?"

"Voldemort being dead..." Harry said, darting his eyes shiftily around the room.

"Is Harry drunk?" Sirius cried from the bed, only just catching up to the conversation. He cackled after the exclamation, obviously finding the observation hilarious.

"You did it then?" Remus asked, staring intently into Harry's blurry eyes and ignoring his friend. "You destroyed the wand?"

"Course!"

Now that he knew his guardians were safe and healthy, his buzz was coming back. Sirius wasn't helping the situation.

"Harry! I knew you could do it! Come here and let me hug you," Sirius called joyfully.

Harry laughed and sat on the bed. "You really shouldn't be allowed to take pain potions anymore. Who gave it to you?"

"It was Remus," he said, mock glaring at his boyfriend. "He just wanted to get me high so he could take advantage of me."

Both Harry and Remus turned bright red at the comment. It conjured up all sorts of images in both men, and they flushed for different reasons.

"But you," Sirius said, looking in to Harry's eyes, "you shouldn't be drinking. Have I taught you nothing?" They both tries to maintain a serious expression, but the second Harry's lips cracked in to a smile, both men lost it.

"Merlin help me." Remus had sat back down in the chair and was massaging his forehead. "Harry, maybe you should go back to Hogwarts and sleep this off." The suggestion was largely sprung from his self-preservation instinct, rather than compassion.

"And leave my favourite godparents? I don't think so," Harry said, settling in beside Sirius in bed. "You'll let me stay, right?" He looked up at Sirius with wide eyes, his lip quivering ridiculously.

Sirius' face broke in sympathy. "Aw, we'll let him stay, won't we, Rem? Look how cute my pup is, pouting like that."

"Merlin. Fine. You can stay. But try to get to sleep. Both of you." Remus seemed at the end of his tether and Harry felt slightly cowed. After all, he had broken one of the very few strict rules in his household. And then come to flaunt it in front of his godparents.

"I'm glad you're okay," Harry said, cuddling in to Sirius in a way he hadn't for years.

"I'm glad you're okay too. Thanks for visiting," Sirius said, tucking his godson underneath his chin and closing his eyes.

Remus sat back in the chair and watched. As much as he was annoyed with their behaviour, he couldn't help but be thankful. The two most important people in the world to him had made it through the past few days. And here they were, drunkenly cuddling on a hospital bed.

He couldn't have asked for more.

OOOoooOOO

Okay, far lighter chapter than last. I hope you're all happy. Also, I don't like writing drunk people because it always feels nonlinear haha, so they're never quite as drunk as I aim for. Hopefully it came out okay. Please review! Spread some love.

Oh, by the way, I'm not sure if I'll be able to update before the new year... I'll try, but things are about to get insane, with exams, then flying home, then seeing family... All that jazz. I promise I'll try!


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: I realize I said I wouldn't update through December, and it is now March. Yes, I know. But I'm on break so I finally had some time. My life is so confusing at the moment, as I'm trying to plan an intercontinental move for next year. Can you say stress-ball? I'm not old enough to be doing this on my own. When did I grow up? God.

Anyway, here's my chapter. There may be strange jumps in time for the next little bit as Harry grows up, but I'm going to try to make them work. Hope you enjoy!

OOOoooOOO

Harry woke up stiffly. He couldn't move the lower half of his body, and felt that he probably shouldn't move the upper. The blinding headache seconded this opinion.

He tried to open his eyes and groaned. Who had left the sun on?

"Harry?"

His head jerked to the right in surprise, though his eyes were still glued shut.

"Remus?" He felt the bed dip on the side as Remus presumably sat.

"Glad to see you've joined the land of the living. How are you feeling?"

"What happened?"

"You broke Sirius Black's Cardinal Rule, Number Six." Remus brushed his bangs back from his still closed eyes.

"Oh."

"Indeed. I don't pity you when he finally wakes up."

"Is that why..." He trailed off as he tried to move his legs once more. It was seeming all the more likely that Sirius had unconsciously pinned him.

"Yes, that would be your hulk of a godfather."

Harry finally managed to pry his eyes open. Remus was sitting in the same clothes as the night before, and looking rather worse for wear, though his weary face was stretched in a smile.

"Did you not sleep?" Harry suddenly felt guilty. Had he stolen Remus' place on the bed? He might have slept, had it not been for him.

"I managed to nap on the chair, but don't worry yourself. Padfoot and I are going home today so I'll be able to sleep the day away."

The hand in Harry's hair continued the stroking and brushing motions, doing wonders to ease his headache. Never had he been so grateful for the presence of his quiet guardian. Things would likely turn sour once Sirius decided to join them in consciousness.

At that thought, Harry sat up, something he immediately regretted. Counter intuitively, all the blood in his body seemed to rush to his already pounding head, and the room spun. He swallowed down the creeping bile and braced himself for a moment.

"I should go before he wakes up. I'd much rather a howler than a lecture."

Remus chuckled and rubbed his forehead.

"I can't believe I'm not chastising you myself, but I think you did have cause for celebration. Just don't make a habit of it. Padfoot and I learned our lessons, and we just don't want you to have to learn the same ones. Trust me, here." Remus smiled softly, though Harry noticed the gentle nostalgia.

"Right. Sorry about that. I promise if I do it in the future, I'll hide it much better from you." Harry grinned cheekily.

Remus' mouth tugged upwards as he rolled his eyes and dismissed Harry with a wave of his hand. "A blind man could see that Sirius raised you. You're exactly like him. Go, before he wakes up."

"Thanks, Moony," Harry carefully slid from under his godfather and off the bed. "I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Of course. Study hard." He pulled him in to a hug, minding Harry's head, "Love you."

"Love you, too."

"And Harry?" Remus called just as Harry walked out the door. "I'm proud of you. For everything."

Harry didn't have to force the uncomfortable expression that leapt to his face. "Right. Thanks, you sap." He turned back to the door with a blush and a smile, then he was gone.

OOOoooOOO

Christmas came quickly in the excitement of Voldemort's defeat. Harry and Draco were speaking again, though neither had so much as mentioned the preceding weeks. They seemed destined to ignore any awkwardness, and it was working. While not quite back to normal, things were at least progressing.

As Harry sat in his room on Christmas Eve, composing various letters to his friends, he considered their relationship.

He supposed that, if nothing else, he would rather be friends with the boy. He knew their relationship hadn't been what anyone, by any stretch, would call ideal, so he was willing to part with it. He couldn't help, though, the nagging feeling in his stomach telling him it felt right. Discomfort aside, he had never been so happy as when they were together. Still, it was probably just the hormones. They were teenage boys, for Merlin's sake. It made perfect sense that they would be seeking out orgasms in any context.

Maybe he just needed to get laid. That seemed to be Draco's opinion, if his steamy glances at the general population were anything to go by. Yes, it was just a matter of moving on.

Moving on came in the form of a letter, the following morning.

It was customary to write and receive letters from all your friends and family on Christmas, and Harry was sorting through the mounds of envelops. His hand paused over one from Susan Bones. They weren't exactly close enough to be sending letters, were they? Harry experienced a moment of doubt, knowing that he had most definitely not sent her a letter.

Dear Harry,

Wishing you a Happy Christmas. Hope your holiday is going spectacularly. I was thinking maybe we could go to Hogsmeade come school? Let me know, I'd love to hear from you.

Love,

Susan Bones

Harry stared at the letter in confusion. Girls were never so forward with him. A little flirtation, perhaps, but to be asked out so blatantly was outside Harry's realm of experience. But Susan was pretty. He'd thought of her on the odd cold night, and had never regretted it.

A smile curled his lips. Moving on, indeed.

He opened his letter from Draco, enthusiastic now that he had an action plan.

Harry,

Hope you're doing well. Happy Christmas and all that. How are Remus and Sirius? Have they told you anything? Have they finally caught a clue? I know it'll probably still be years, but I always get excited when you go home, for some reason. Give them a push, will you? Lock them in a cupboard for a night or something.

Anyway, not much is happening here. Miss you. We need to come up with something fun for the new year. I think Filch is getting a little too comfortable. We've been off the ball lately.

Love,

Draco

Harry chuckled. His letter to Draco had run along very similar ideas. Except he had replaced cupboard with closet.

He immediately pulled out a parchment to reply, but stopped. Would he tell Draco about Susan's letter? He knew they were pretending nothing was wrong, but that didn't make it true. They now had a history. What if it made Draco jealous or, worse, angry? No, he wouldn't be angry; Draco rarely got angry. But jealous? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he was jealous.

Mind made up, he composed a letter. No, Sirius and Remus still weren't together, as far as he knew. Yes, a locked cupboard was in their near future. Oh and by the way, he had a date with Susan.

Subtle enough.

OOOoooOOO

As it turned out, his date with Susan wasn't everything he'd hoped it would be.

It was the first weekend back in the new year. Hermione had, for reasons unbeknownst to Harry, been very eager to get them to Hogsmeade. They opted for the relatively safe destination of the Three Broomsticks.

At first, Harry had enjoyed himself. It was all small talk and shy smiles. However, once Susan became more comfortable around him, things took a turn for the worse.

"So I told Hannah that I wanted to borrow her clip and she said no, but I took it anyway, because who doesn't let someone borrow a clip, you know? Well anyway, she found out because Kelly told her that I was wearing a clip that looked like hers, and then she confronted me about it – "

Harry wasn't listening. He'd decided early on that the bridge of Susan's nose was a useful place to rest his eyes while she blabbered on about whatever meaningless tripe she cared about.

Did people actually date girls like that? Girls whose fall back conversation was the retelling of stories that would have been boring enough to live through once?

"And Justin told me that he wouldn't tell if I wouldn't, so I figured that we were safe, you know? But then he had to go and have an attack of conscience or whatever, so where does that leave me?"

It wasn't that she was stupid. She was probably just searching for conversation. He hadn't exactly been a help in that department. Maybe if he directed her rambling...

"So what did you think of the DADA assignment? Are you finished?"

She gave a start and looked at him strangely. He supposed he had interrupted her, mid rant. Luckily, she recovered quickly.

"I finished that ages ago. About Kelpies, right? I didn't think it was too hard; did you need help or something?"

"Oh, no, I was just wondering." Harry paused, wondering where exactly he had intended to take that conversation.

"Alright." She paused as well, seeming to understand that Harry hadn't cared for the previous conversation.

They exchanged tight smiles over their butterbeer as Harry's mind raced. Another topic. He just needed another topic. Any would do.

"Did you do anything interesting for Christmas?" Harry had learned from an early age, watching Sirius interact, that bringing up a recent vacation could rarely lead a conversation astray.

"Actually," Susan's face lit up, "I had quite a lovely time. My parents took me to Italy, and we went to loads of muggle museums. The art there is incredible, particularly the sculptures. Of course, I'd like to visit Greece someday, for the same reason."

She looked to Harry expectantly.

"Of course." He used another of Sirius' tricks as he managed to appear quietly confident through the haze of confusion.

"Have you ever been travelling? It really is quite lovely abroad." Unfortunately, it seemed that Susan had latched on to yet another topic Harry was unfamiliar with.

"Erm, well," Harry said, "we once went to France to visit some distant relatives. I was pretty young, though. I don't remember much."

"Oh," her face fell sympathetically, "that really is a shame. You should try to get around a little more. I think you'd really enjoy it."

"Mhm." Harry had almost preferred the first conversation. At least he wasn't expected to be an active participant in that one. He briefly contemplated whether or not he should try to get her talking about a particular painting but quickly dismissed the idea. Knowing his luck, she would ask his opinion on it.

And then he would have to run and hide. That wasn't the ideal ending to any date.

Harry concluded there was nothing to do but smile politely as Susan rambled on, uninvited.

Still, he considered, it was better than his dates with Draco had been. At least he had nothing to lose if things didn't work out, something that was appearing more and more likely by the sentence. They could just go their separate ways afterwards, with no hard feelings. None of the awkward silences that still occasionally permeated his relationship with Draco.

"And Museo Minguizzi, too. You'll have to visit that one. It's beautiful. Not only the sculptures, but the architecture of the building itself is breathtaking. That's in Milan – I'll give you the address if you want."

Harry took a deep breath and released a sigh. This wasn't worth the potential of sex. It really wasn't.

Hermione was the only girl he'd been able to handle on a long term basis. The others annoyed him too much in the end. Hermione wasn't a typical girl, in his opinion. She was more like his male friends than he would admit to her face. Never rambling on about what others could care less about.

Well. That wasn't true. But she knew when to shut up. Usually.

But Susan... It had been the same with Cho. The little conversation they'd made had been completely outside Harry's range of interest. Perhaps it wasn't the girls, it was him.

"Harry?"

"Yes."

Silence.

Perhaps he should have inflected that as a question.

"You seem a little off. Are you tired?"

"Completely trashed," he said, gladly grasping at the provided excuse. "First week back, and all that."

"Oh that explains it, then." She smiled, though Harry thought perhaps she didn't seem as worried as her words suggested.

"Sorry, I was listening, though."

"No problem," she tinkled delicately, "Did you want to head back now? I'm a little tired myself."

Harry held back the sigh of relief and stood up. He dug in his pocket for a few coins and dropped them on the table.

"Let's go." He smiled genuinely this time, his mood already lifted.

He couldn't wait to tell Draco about this date.

OOOoooOOO

Hope you enjoyed. Please review; it really does increase my likelihood of updating. That's not a bribe, just an embarrassing truth.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: I'm officially off school and unemployed for the moment. Which means: a chapter! And an almost obscenely clean house, over on this end. I hate having nothing to do...

OOOoooOOO

"Merlin, and she just wouldn't shut up!" Harry cried at a smirking Draco, "Just going on and on about... paintings or something. I don't know. I wasn't listening. And how she stole her friend's clip and uugh."

"So," preened Draco from his side of the two-way mirror, "Are you seeing her again?"

"I dunno. If she asks, I suppose. I won't be asking her, though, trust me." Harry shuddered. "Anyway, whatever. What did you do today?"

"What, without your magnificent presence to keep me amused? Not a whole lot. I finished my Charms essay."

Harry snuffled in disappointment. "We were supposed to do that together! I still don't know what I'm going to write on..."

Draco smirked. "Should have thought ahead, lover boy."

He was ruffled. Draco didn't seem to be jealous at all. He was taking everything in stride. Harry had mirror called him the moment he returned from the date, the first Saturday evening back, in hopes of rearing up some jealousy. Resentment. Anything. But nothing. Nada. Zilch.

No unusual flicker coloured Draco's eye. He seemed just as teasing as Harry would have expected about his previous relationships.

"Well, whatever," Harry snapped. "Any conquests on your side of the castle?" He had to ask. Hated that he did, but had to. Draco was typically quite tight-lipped about his sexual escapades; never telling Harry before the rest of the school. Harry would normally find out that his best friend had been seeing a girl when Draco waltzed into the Great Hall with a new girl on his arm.

It had always bothered him in the past, but after their attempted relationship, he didn't know that he'd be able to stomach seeing that unexpectedly.

"I think," Draco emphasized, "there might be something brewing. I'd rather not discuss it for the moment."

Harry grit his teeth. He'd heard that before; preceding some of Draco's more notorious 'relationships'.

"Who is she?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I told you, I'd rather not say. Just until something concrete happens. I like to work alone." He smirked at the line, but otherwise seemed quite serious.

"Fine." Harry fluffed his pillow, moving temporarily out of range of the mirror. "I think I'm going to head in now."

"Okay, see you tomorrow?"

"I don't know. I have to work on the Charms essay, now that you've already finished it." Harry pursed his lips, annoyed.

"Oh. Right. Well, let me know. Goodnight."

"Night."

Harry replaced the mirror under his pillow and turned on to his back. He sighed. He'd really hoped they could go back to normal, but it wasn't seeming likely. No, on the outside they seemed perfectly fine, but Harry knew he wasn't supposed to feel these things for a friend.

His need to induce jealousy, and his disappointment when it was absent. And then his own envy at Draco's situation. Something that should have been completely normal and average was suddenly a big deal.

But, apparently, only to him.

Why wasn't Draco feeling the same things? How could he speak so casually about Harry's date? Draco hadn't even mentioned a specific girl, and already Harry wanted to rip her arms off.

Well, if Draco didn't care, then he would go about his normal business.

Not a thought spared for how Draco might be feeling as a result of his love life. Not. One. Thought.

Harry grabbed a parchment from the bag lying at the foot of his bed, and scribbled a quick note on it. Susan hadn't been that terrible... had she?

OOOoooOOO

Harry was woken the next morning by a tapping on the glass. A quick glance around the dorm told him that his friends were still mostly asleep, and altogether deeply unimpressed with the owl.

Who was awake this early on a Sunday, anyway?

The brown owl glared at Harry as he untied her letter. Apparently not a morning owl.

Harry,

I'd love to have a picnic, what a clever idea! Either Wednesday or Thursday is best for me. Let me know!

Susan

Oh. Right.

Harry had forgotten about his evening anger. He knew he should always sleep on decisions like that. They tended to come back the next morning and bite him in the arse.

He vowed to speak with Hermione and ideally come up with a list of possible conversation topics. They would have fun this time.

OOOoooOOO

"Oh, Harry!" Susan gushed as he unpacked the basket. "This is absolutely lovely." Her eyes wandered the assortment of food and drink that Hermione had helped him pack. Chicken, egg and tuna sandwiches along with a variety of vegetables decorated the red and white checkerboard blanket. As per Hermione's advice, he'd also packed dessert. Apparently, the most important part of a meal.

"Mm," she moaned as she bit into the chicken. "This is incredible. Did you just get this from the house elves?"

"Erm, actually," he scratched the nape of his neck and tried not to blush. "I just got them to give me the ingredients and I made it myself. I have quite a bit of practice. Sirius has always preferred mine so I always end up with the task."

Susan dropped her sandwich holding hand to her lap and looked at him strangely. Harry couldn't quite decipher what she was thinking. It was sweet, though almost sympathetic.

"Well thank you. That was really sweet of you. I didn't know you'd go to so much effort. I feel I should have brought something!"

"No, no, don't worry about it." Harry hurried to reveal the chocolate covered strawberries he'd brought. "I have dessert and everything so I don't think we're missing anything."

They had just finished their meals when Susan sat back and looked at him pensively.

"What's on your mind?" he asked.

"I... I just wanted to talk to you about something." She fiddled with her crust as Harry waited. "It's just that I'm not sure we're completely suited to each other, you know? Don't get me wrong. You're possibly the sweetest wizard here." She frowned and swallowed hard. "But maybe we should just be friends." She glanced up hesitantly.

Harry sighed his relief. "I completely agree." She honestly was quite a nice girl, once you got past her nervous rambling, but Harry couldn't imagine being with her in any romantic context. "Friends is probably for the best."

Her face relaxed in to a thankful grin. "Great. And trust me," the side of her mouth tugged up in a teasing leer, "it's not that I don't find you attractive. I just really think we'd be better platonically."

Harry reddened. She thought he was attractive? This gorgeous girl?

"I think you're attractive, too," he mumbled in response, still bright red.

She laughed loudly. "Merlin, Harry. Don't be so embarrassed. It's just physical stuff. You must know that every witch here thinks you're bloody stunning."

He wrinkled his nose in disagreement. "Don't exaggerate. But thank you for the thought, I suppose. Anyway. What did you say you wanted to do after school?" He chose one of Hermione's talking points at random.

She raised an eyebrow skeptically but went along with his change of topic.

OOOoooOOO

Harry sat down for supper the following Friday, and set about piling his plate.

"Hey, mate. How's it going?" Ron asked through a mouthful of Merlin knew what.

"Great, you?"

"Pretty decent."

The meat loaf was always spectacular, and he hadn't had the chance to eat much since breakfast. His 'shenanigans' with Draco had left him quite busy after class. They had set up a lovely prank for Mrs. Norris, involving a tin of olive oil, a pillow, and a live chicken from the kitchen supply.

The future detention would be worth it.

He was just digging in to his plateful when a pretty brunette tapped him on the shoulder. He recognized her as Lisa Turpin. A friendly and rather outgoing Ravenclaw in their year.

"Hi, Harry." She smiled.

"Er, hi!"

Ron turned slightly in his seat to watch them out of the corner of his eye.

"I was wondering if I could sit for a second."

"Course," he gestured to the empty spot next to him and swallowed his food.

"I'm friends with Susan, and she was telling me about your dates. She thinks you're a really nice guy."

"Oh." Harry glanced at Ron then back to Lisa. "Thanks."

"And well anyway, I wanted to know if you'd like to go out with me sometime." She smiled up at him through her lashes.

Harry frowned in surprise. Was that how things were done? He felt very out of the societal-norms-loop.

"Sure!" What else could he say? She was quite pretty and, being a Ravenclaw, was unlikely to mouth off about inconsequential things. "How's next weekend?"

"Perfect! I'll owl you, okay?"

"Sounds good." He smiled at her as she stood and left.

He was still smiling when Ron turned to him and asked, "Who was that?"

"Who was that?" He looked at him strangely. "Ron, she in our year."

"She... wait really?"

"We have three classes with her."

"Oh. Damn."

Harry rolled his eyes but the smile never fell from his lips. This was shaping up quite well, actually. He'd always been fond of Lisa, despite never speaking with her much. More fond than he'd been of Susan, at the very least.

Ron started to say something but Harry wasn't paying attention because, at that moment, Draco walked in to the Great Hall. And not alone.

Apparently a week was enough time to sort out concrete feelings.

Blaise Zabini, who, to Harry's knowledge, had always been straight as a board, had his arm around Draco.

Harry was fairly confident that the student body at large wouldn't be able to pick up the signs, but he was Draco's best friend for a reason.

The blonde laughed as Blaise muttered something in to his ear. They walked confidently over to the Slytherin table and sat in their regular places, still talking. Draco seemed far more comfortable with Blaise than he and Harry had ever been, whilst dating.

Harry felt his heart splinter and his stomach clench.

"I'm going upstairs." He barely spared a glance for Ron, before racing from the hall. How could Draco do this to him?

OOOoooOOO

He lay in bed that night, trying desperately to look at the situation objectively.

Point 1 : Harry was dating

Point 2 : Draco was dating

Point 3 : Draco was dating a man. Who was already his friend. Harry was just fooling around with pretty girls, who he barely knew from Eve.

Conclusion : Harry was just having fun. Draco had replaced Harry.

He struggled to breathe as he lay on his covers, staring at the familiar red canopy. They had just spent the whole day together. Why the fuck hadn't Draco mentioned it? A casual, "I'll be breaking your heart later tonight" would have sufficed. Anything to prepare him.

Harry took a couple deep breaths to calm himself. He needed a plan. Plans always made everything better.

If Draco was going to have fun, then so was Harry. He would forget about any romantic feelings he had for his friend, as they obviously weren't reciprocated.

He would, in short, get laid.

He was positive it would help. Remus' distant advice came rushing back to him. Sex introduced potentially false feelings into a relationship. He was probably just hung up on Draco because they had been intimate.

He just needed to get it out of his system.

OOOoooOOO

A/N: Okay sorry for the whole 'late update' thing. I'm finally really excited about this story (and given my unemployment, that probably means several updates soon). I feel the need to warn you, though : next chapter fast-forwards several years. Most likely 4, but I haven't quite decided. They'll be living on their own/with flatmates, and the feel of the story will be a little different. Hopefully you knew coming in to this story that I was focussing on Harry's LIFE, not just Hogwarts, and this won't come as a surprise.

Anyway, let me know what you thought! I love hearing it.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: So, to fill in the past few years of Harry's life, nothing really happened. He's dated a bit, they've obviously graduated. This chapter will give you a feel for everybody's lifestyle. Remember, these are modern times and the characters are in their early twenties. So yes, there will be some... misbehaving.

Also, I feel I need to clarify. What happened last chapter with all the drama wasn't exactly important in terms of their lives. It was more teenage angst, which is why I feel comfortable moving on. Just a set up for what's happening now.

Enjoy!

OOOoooOOO

Five Years Later

Harry fumbled with the key to his apartment as a nameless woman sucked on his neck.

"Mm," she moaned in his ear, "having trouble?"

"You have to ask?"

He wasn't used to opening his door without a wand, but he'd met this woman in a muggle club. The combination of too much alcohol and a scantily dressed woman in his arms was muddling his brain.

"Fucking lock." He squinted, hoping to sober temporarily.

"Here, let me." She grabbed his keys and moments later, they were in. He immediately pushed her against the wall and closed the door, kissing her lustfully. It was times like these that he was grateful Sirius had talked him in to contact lenses.

"God," she groaned as his hand slipped under her dress. "You're fucking amazing." Harry was barely listening as he pulled her panties down her thighs. She stepped out of them and wrapped a leg around his waist.

She pulled his crotch in to her core and ground against him. He thrust back and moaned in to her neck.

"Do... do you have a flatmate?" she asked, between gasps.

Without a word, he pulled away from her and led her to his room. He'd forgotten about Ron, truth be told.

Once the door was closed and they were afforded privacy, she slipped out of her dress and Harry wrenched open the fly of his jeans while she pulled his shirt off.

She moved to the bed and he knelt over her. Harry relished these situations. They were both in it for one thing, and there was no pretence.

With very little foreplay, he flipped her over on the bed and she looked over her shoulder to grin, before assuming the position. Harry loved doggie style.

As he pounded in to her, he let himself fall deeper in to oblivion. The vodka he'd had earlier helped a great deal, as he floated above himself, basking in the physical pleasure.

He hadn't had this with Sophie. This wild abandonment, and pure lust. She had never let them just be. So why did he miss her?

The woman moaned underneath him in a way that suggested her impending orgasm. He was thankful for the distraction. He'd gone out tonight to forget Sophie. Not dwell. Without a second thought, Harry reached around to massage her clit, still thrusting. She screamed and clenched around him. Thirty seconds of pulsating later, Harry came with a sigh. He pulled out of her after only a few seconds, holding the condom at the base.

That was the problem with muggle girls, he thought as he drifted hazily out of consciousness. Bloody condoms.

OOOoooOOO

He awoke the following morning in a foul mood. His hangovers were never horrible but rarely enjoyable. He sat up and looked around the room. The spot next to him was ruffled and warm, and he was naked, save for his jeans, which were around his ankles.

It wasn't hard to fit the pieces together.

He grudgingly pulled himself from the comfortable sheets and replaced the jeans with the more comfortable option of track pants. He didn't have anything on the calendar for today, save for writing.

Harry opened his bedroom door and blinked blearily at the light coming through the living room windows. The smell of coffee made his stomach turn, but mouth water. He scowled. Stupid ambiguity of hangovers.

"Hey mate," Ron said from the kitchen table, where he was nursing a coffee and reading the paper.

"Morning." He trudged across the tile and collapsed in the adjacent chair.

"Late night?" Ron smirked to himself as he perused the Prophet.

Harry merely groaned in response.

"She just left, you know. Lucky you. She wasn't exactly a treat."

"Shit, really?" Harry grimaced. "Sorry 'bout that."

"No, that's fine. She was perfectly pleasant to me. She had some choice words about you, though." Ron's smirk grew. "Something about 'what kind of wanker would bring home someone that drunk'. Or whatever."

He let his head fall into his hands. "What?" he cried, "She didn't seem too drunk... I mean, I guess I was completely out of it last night. Ugh. I wish I had her number or something. Can't even call to apologize..."

"Whatever, mate. I saw how she was dressed. I think she was just trying to save face in front of me. Anyway, did it work?"

"Did what work?"

"Forgetting about Sophie by sleeping with a random bird," Ron said, as if Harry had forgotten his own birthday.

"I hate you."

"I'll take that as a no, then."

"Too right you should."

Ron sighed and stood to get Harry a coffee."Well, these things take time. You were together for, what? Two years?"

"Twenty-six months." Harry replied from between his hands.

"Erm, Harry, you have to let it go."

"I fucking can't, Ron. I love her."

Harry looked close enough to crying that Ron thought seriously about his next comment.

"She bloody well cheated on you. She's not worth your agonizing."

"I know, I know." He sipped his coffee. "I think I'll go see Draco today. I just have that article I have to write and it's not due for another few days."

"Which one's that?"

"The one... Gringotts taxation something or other."

Ron made a face. "Sounds fascinating."

"Doesn't it just? Anyway, I'll see you later."

"Harry," Ron called, without turning to look, "put a shirt on."

OOOoooOOO

Harry apparated outside Draco's flat door with a loud crack. To everyone's surprise, Draco hadn't moved in to a Wizarding building, but his door was in a private alcove, so apparition was safe.

He knocked quite loudly, knowing the size of the rooms inside.

Draco didn't have roommates, but rather, he was living off his wealth. Harry supposed that he was too, to an extent. Freelance journalism didn't exactly pay the bills. Sirius didn't mind though, so long as he wasn't being a layabout. He often considered joining Ron in the Aurors, but he'd seen the painful years of training it had taken, and wasn't ready to commit just yet.

He heard movement behind the door and listened closely. There was definite shuffling followed by a thud and a low curse.

But what time was it? Draco wasn't seeing anyone, was he? Had he been caught in the uncomfortable situation that Harry had been lucky enough to avoid that very morning?

Harry almost laughed at the possibility.

The door swung open and the first face he saw was that of an attractive, if mused, brunette, dressed in clubbing clothes and holding a slice of toast.

"Morning," the stranger mumbled through a mouthful.

"Cheers," he replied and ushered him out.

Harry closed the door behind the man, and called, "Draco?"

No reply. He walked through the empty hall. The only closed door was to his bedroom suite, so he knocked softly. No answer there either, so he opened the door very slowly, making sure he wasn't interrupting anything.

As if.

Draco was lying face down in a small spot of his own drool. The thin white sheet covered his bum and upper thighs but his creamy, muscled back was on proud display. Harry averted his eyes.

"Drake," he poked him, and used a nickname he knew the blonde hated. "Drakie-poo, are you alive in there?"

All he got in response was a low groan.

"Love, you're going to have to wake up. It's almost half ten. Don't worry, your boy is gone. He probably got tired of waiting for your lazy arse to move."

"Thank Merlin," Draco croaked out as he pushed himself painfully on to his back.

Harry kept his eyes firmly on his friend's face. He was a little puffy from sleep and he looked thoroughly shagged. A description, Harry considered, which probably fit himself as well.

"Coffee?" Every word sounded choked from his dehydrated mouth.

"Clear fluid first, I think. You didn't drink much water last night, did you? This is why you should never go clubbing without me as your water buddy," Harry chided.

"I don't get any cock when I go out with you. Bloody people assume we're together."

"Right," Harry snorted at the unfortunate truth. "Maybe I'll buy a shirt that proclaims my heterosexuality. We'd finally be able to go out together."

"They'd just see you as a challenge," Draco smirked as he groped around the bed for clothes.

"Let them try." Harry handed him a pair of pyjama pants and turned to the kitchen. "I'll just put on some coffee."

"Thanks, mate."

Harry worked around the kitchen with the familiarity of a best friend. He'd been in this situation several times in the past few years – nursing Draco back to health after a night of drinking. Harry got bad hangovers, but Draco's were horrid.

Vomiting, blinding headaches, dizziness, and on occasion, fainting.

They often joked that he should just move in and get it over with, but Ron really did need the help with rent.

He was just putting on some toast for both of them when Draco stumbled out, dressed surprisingly in jeans and a collared shirt.

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed, "I guess you're not feeling too ill, then?"

"No, thank Merlin. I'm mostly just tired. Although my headache is nothing to scoff at." He plopped down in the kitchen and Harry got a sense of déjà vu. Both from himself this morning, and previous mornings exactly like this. He considered how strange a routine it was, but dismissed it. He had no complaints.

"Know how you feel." Harry buttered their toast.

"How was your night?" Draco's face turned sympathetic. Harry had only broken up with his long term girlfriend a couple nights ago, and it was generally understood that he was still hurting.

"'Bout the same as yours, I suppose," he said with a small smile.

"That bad?"

Harry laughed. "Come on, your night can't have been too rough. I saw the guy. You've done better, but not by much."

"Yeah," Draco joined Harry's smile, "He was gorgeous, eh?"

"I was just going to say he looked like me, so I guess we're in agreement," Harry said cheekily.

Draco scoffed. "I said gorgeous, not lanky and specky."

"Hey! Not specky. Notice the glasses have been gone for a good few weeks."

"But it's like a birthmark or something. I still see them on you." Draco frowned confusedly over his coffee cup as he studied his best friend.

"Gee, thanks. But the fact remains that you can no longer call me four-eyes, or whatever brilliantly clever insult you use."

"I believe my term was 'bespectacled poindexter'."

"Yes, as I said, so clever," Harry drawled sarcastically.

"Do you have any plans for the day?" Draco asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"You are my plans."

He smiled. "Good. Let's go shopping. That bastard ripped my favourite shirt."

"Oh, Merlin. Am I going to have to wait three hours in every store, though? I don't want this to be a repeat of when you bought that bloody shirt the first time."

"Harry!" he whinged, "I want your opinion! What, am I just supposed to go alone and buy whatever I like? That's not the way these things are done." He sniffed, indignant that Harry would even suggest such a thing.

"It's not? That's how I buy all my clothes. Ten minutes, in and out." He frowned, surprised that Draco could possibly think otherwise.

"Exactly. And compare our wardrobes, if you will."

But if he had such bad taste, why did Draco want him there? Harry wisely kept the question to himself, and nodded in resignation.

Not exactly the day he'd had planned, but he would be with Draco. That was all he asked.

OOOoooOOO

A/N: -Swallows nervously- I can't see too many of you absolutely loving this. But I do! So :P And just so I don't get an influx of reviews demanding to know what happened with Blaise, he'll be mentioned in the next chapter. Keep your hats on!

Anyway, review with your thoughts! Anger? Blood lust?... Hopefully love?


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: Ooooh. I just had a nice little revelation. My chapters have been a bit shorter lately because I write by page, not word count. And I recently changed the font I use. Okay. I was wondering. I'm sure you didn't even notice :)

The response I got for the last chapter was hilarious. You're all amazing.

Randy13 : Yes, this is going to feature a Harry/Draco romantic relationship. Just wait for it. The pre-slash that's happening in my mind right now is overwhelming.

OOOoooOOO

"What about this one?" Harry held up a deep burgundy collared shirt.

Draco scoffed. They were in his favourite store, which Harry had already forgotten the name of. They'd been out several hours, and Harry knew the other's pockets were jam-packed with shrunken posh shopping bags. Harry himself had only purchased a pair of trousers and was okay holding his bag. Though his feet were starting to ache.

"What's the matter with you? That doesn't go with my colouring at all. Actually, though, you might try it." He turned back to the trousers he was examining and squinted at them closely. "What do you think of this design?"

Harry glanced over. "Design?" He peered at them intently. "I don't see a design."

"The grey in them!"

"The..." Squint. "Grey?"

"For Merlin's sake, I don't know why I bother at all."

"Draco, you've already bought a ton, can we just go now?"

Draco checked his watch, as though he had to meet a quota. He sighed, "Fine, I guess we've been out awhile. Are you going to get that?" He pointed to the red shirt in Harry's grasp.

"No," he replaced it on the rack, "Let's just go."

"My place for dinner?"

"Obviously."

"But you're cooking, right? Do I have chicken?" He opened the shop door for Harry to pass through.

"There's some in the freezer. Did you want fresh? I'll probably just be making fettuccini alfredo or something."

"But you made that last week! Can't you do something exciting? You always used to make exciting meals..." He trailed off in an exaggerated pout.

Harry sighed. "I'm not a chef, Draco. What do you want? Maybe a curry or something? I don't know how to do much if you want chicken."

"Curry sounds good. But make it interesting, yeah?" He cocked an eyebrow.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, love. One interesting curry coming up."

OOOoooOOO

Harry puttered around the kitchen as Draco sat on a bar stool, watching him. He occasionally offered up useless advice, but remained silent on the whole.

"Try turning the handle to the back." He pointed at the frying pan that Harry was fiddling with.

"Why would that work? It's just not heating properly on this side. Maybe it's your stove." He turned the chicken around in the pan.

"There's nothing wrong with that stove! It cost several hundred pounds. I think." Draco had never been good with muggle currency. "Just turn the handle."

Harry sighed but turned the handle. After a moment, the chicken that had previously been stone cold began to sizzle. "Hm," he said, not making eye contact with the gloating Draco. "Hand me the onions, will you?" At least Potions had made Draco incredible at preparing ingredients.

He dumped the perfectly diced onions into the frying pan and everything crackled.

"I'm bloody starving. How much longer?"

"You're such a child. Just wait." Cooking was relaxing for Harry and he didn't like being rushed.

At that moment, the floo roared to life.

"Draco!" came a familiar call from the living room.

"Oh," Draco said, standing up, "That'll be Blaise."

Harry turned back to the stove with a clenched jaw. Of course it was Blaise. He would probably be interrupting their supper to eat with them, as well.

"Hey," the blonde called from the fireplace, "Mind if Blaise comes for supper?"

How exactly did one say 'fuck yes' when the guest was within earshot? "Course not. Let him through."

Blaise and Draco had dated off and on for years. They hadn't officially gotten together until after graduation, but their relationship had been quite prevalent in his life. It had never been serious, mostly just a friendship with benefits, but it had irked Harry the entire time. For years, his one track mind had insisted, 'that could be us'. He had beaten that bit of his brain into submission recently, and Sophie had helped with her skeptical regard of their friendship.

Every time Draco came stumbling to his doorstep, upset and drunk after his latest breakup, Harry's heart clenched. He was glad that their most recent, and supposedly permanent, separation had been several months ago.

Though, Harry considered, he'd never stayed in such close contact with an ex. Unless he counted Draco, which he most certainly didn't. Blaise seemed to come around all the time. Not only that, he was Draco's 'wing man' for clubbing nights. A position Harry envied. Before Draco had decided that he pulled more without Harry there, they'd always had a good time.

"Harry! Haven't seen you in awhile. How're things?"

"Fine," he gave him a quick over the shoulder smile and went back to cooking. Bloody Slytherins. Now he'd be spending the entire evening with them. With any luck, they would keep their hands to themselves, now that they weren't together.

It didn't take long for Harry to finish the curry, and he served it up with a white wine from Draco's collection.

"Mm," Blaise moaned through his first mouthful. "This is incredible, Harry. Didn't know you had it in you. You'll have to give me the recipe." Harry felt the familiar irrational anger well up in him.

"Actually, I just threw it together. I'm not exactly sure what I put in, sorry." Even small victories counted.

"That's okay, I'll just have to come over again sometime." He grinned cheekily at Harry who nearly snarled. The two of them didn't have the best background, unbeknownst to Draco.

Sometime around their third breakup, Blaise had shown up, unannounced, at Harry's door, screaming that he was ruining their relationship. The fit had been, Harry assumed, a direct result of that morning. Harry had fallen asleep at Draco's after a lazy night in, and been rudely awoken by Blaise asking what the hell he was doing in his boyfriend's bed.

That evening, Blaise had accused him of coming between them. He'd said they were closer than they should have been and he had no right. Embarrassed and caught off guard, Harry had waited patiently for the screaming to die down before telling him, in no uncertain terms, to get the fuck out of his apartment.

He and Ron had shared awkward looks all night, after that.

Suffice it to say, Blaise and Harry didn't get on in private. The front they presented was purely for Draco's benefit.

Draco, who was chatting mindlessly away, happy to have his two favourite people with him.

"... But I think that maybe we should try going again tomorrow. Harry, when's your article due? Do you have time? I changed my mind about those platinum cuff links. They'd look great with my Paul Smith shirt, don't you think?"

"Course." Harry replied automatically to the fashion talk.

"So you'll come then?" he asked, delighted.

"Oh," Harry finally looked at him, surprised. "What? No. I'm busy." He saw Blaise smirk in his peripherals.

"Busy?" whined Draco, "Doing what?"

"Writing. I've not even started my next article and it's due soon."

"Fuck it. Come on. You can sleep on the couch and we'll do brunch. It'll be cute," Draco moaned, half sarcastically, though serious about the idea.

Harry picked up his empty plate, and stepped to the kitchen. "Maybe." He knew he had no self-control when it came to Draco, but it was nice to pretend.

"I suppose I'll be making myself scarce, then," Blaise said, wiping his lips. "Thanks for dinner, Draco."

Harry bit his tongue at the misdirected comment.

"No problem. Drop by soon, we should go out."

Harry swallowed rising bile. They were just a bad match. Draco was always a little less happy when they were a couple. It wouldn't be obvious to everyone, but he knew him well enough to see the change.

Of course, his nausea was premature. Draco probably just meant 'out clubbing', not 'out on a date'. Why make assumptions that only upset him?

Draco turned to him once the fire had calmed, following Blaise's departure.

"That was fun."

Harry hummed in response.

"Why don't the three of us hang out more often?" Draco was cleaning the table absentmindedly as he spoke.

"We're busy, I guess." Short and sweet was the key.

"What?" Draco turned to him, bemused. "You're the only one who's employed, and you're not even really employed."

"Hey!" he replied defensively, "It's a real job. And Blaise and I... We just don't get on terribly well. All the time."

Draco stopped and turned to him, brow wrinkled. Harry swore under his breath and turned away. He knew he shouldn't have said anything. The lengths they went to, being polite in each other's company, and now everything was ruined.

"What do you mean? You always get on!"

"When you're around." Harry rolled his eyes, resigned to the conversation. He'd have to warn Blaise, though. There was most likely an unpleasant confrontation in his near future. Or maybe, Harry mused, he'd just leave the bastard to be surprised.

"What?" Draco, it seemed, still hadn't caught up. "Why? Why are you polite when I'm around? Why don't you like him?"

Oh Merlin. The conversation those questions prompted was not happening.

"We're polite around you so you're happy. It's not a big deal or anything, mate, we just don't click."

"Do you fight? When do you even see him when I'm not around?"

"Calm down, Draco! It's not important. I can't believe I even brought it up." Harry ran a hand through his hair in agitation. He couldn't even blame this on the wine, having only had half his glass.

"Just tell me what happened that you don't get on." Draco seemed overly concerned, considering the situation.

"He's just said some stuff." He knew it was a bad idea to continue, but for some reason, he did. "About our relationship."

Draco's eyes blazed. "What?" He had every right to be angry at that. Sophie had, for much of her relationship with him, badmouthed Draco. At first, Harry had come to Draco, upset and needing to share. Eventually he'd stopped, seeing how upset it made the blonde. Her accusations that they were too close, how he needed to spend more time with her, and less with his friend. About spot on what Blaise had screamed, really.

"A little like Sophie. He was looking out for your relationship. I just took it the wrong way. We fought a bit. It was years ago, probably." He looked into Draco's upset eyes. "Just leave it. We can obviously stand to be in each other's company, and you guys aren't even dating anymore, right?"

He'd phrased it rhetorically. He knew Draco would understand it that way, but he still waited for some, any, confirmation. Just a nod or a hum.

None was forthcoming, so he pressed.

"You aren't together, are you?"

Draco squirmed. "Not really, no."

"Not really?" Harry's heart sank. Would they have to go through this whole routine again? It killed him to see Draco so troubled after a breakup.

"No. I mean," he pulled a face, "No. He'd just been asking after me. I know he wants to start up again, I'm just not sure about it."

"Draco," Harry sighed in a mix of sympathy and warning.

"I know, I know. It's not happening, okay? I just..." he blushed.

"What?" he prompted, confused at Draco's embarrassment.

"It's nice having someone there, I suppose. Someone to fall asleep next to, you know?"

Harry swallowed uncomfortably. "Yes, I know."

His voice must have had an odd quality, because Draco looked up at him, horrified. "Sorry! Merlin, sorry. I didn't forget or anything... I – " he looked down. "Sorry."

For a moment, Harry was completely thrown. He wondered 'sorry for what?' before remembering Sophie. Guilt crept in, at forgetting her so easily. It had been only days since their separation. Mind, it had been a long time coming. He'd suspected her of sneaking around on him for ages before she'd confessed.

He'd stayed with her for familiarity and comfort. Something, he realized, he should share with Draco. And so he did.

Draco replied, "Yeah I suppose it's a little like that. He's just... comfortable."

"Comfortable isn't always right," Harry said sagely.

The blonde shot him a strange look. "Astutely noted, Mr. Puddifoot."

"Hey! I... It wasn't that cheesy." He crossed his arms guiltily.

"It was, darling, but it's okay," he winked, "I liked it."

Harry blushed and scoffed. "If you're already starting to hit on me, then we have a more immediate problem than I thought."

"Love, how could I not?" Draco sashayed flamboyantly around the room and adopted a lisp, while Harry laughed at his imitation. "You said it yourself. Boy toy and you might as well have been brothers." He cocked an eyebrow and Harry's blush deepened. He hated that Draco could reliably discomfit him.

"Shut up, Malfoy. Are we going to watch a movie or not?" He moved to sit on the couch as Draco knelt in front of the television cabinet. Yet another advantage of living in muggledom.

"Titanic?"

"Merlin."

"Some Like It Hot?"

"Can we watch a straight boy movie tonight, please?" Harry complained as he nestled under the blanket on the sofa.

Draco huffed. "What's a straight boy movie?"

"I don't know. Whatever you want to watch."

"I think that would pretty much disqualify it from being straight, Harry." He smirked.

"Something with Matt Damon?" he suggested, covering a yawn. They'd spent an exciting day for two men with hangovers.

"That was the suggestion of a heterosexual? Do you need to go jack off before we watch this? Can't have you questioning anything now, can we?" He smiled and placed a copy of the Bourne Identity in the disc player.

Harry smiled at the ribbing. "Fuck off and watch the movie. Here," he held up the side of the blanket for Draco to cuddle underneath.

"Just don't fall asleep," Draco leered as he sat, "I wouldn't want you to start groping me, thinking I was the handsome Mr. Damon."

Harry laughed and whacked him over the head as Draco pressed play. Harry sunk deeper into the cushions and put his feet up on the coffee table.

Even a heterosexual man, such as he, could appreciate the undiluted beauty that was Matt Damon.

OOOoooOOO

It's 5am the morning before a job interview. I'm too tired to figure out if the Bourne Identity would actually have been released in whatever year they're living in right now. So just roll with me :) And, of course, review.


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Wow, lots of questions about Matt Damon as a choice. Frankly, I'm not sure why. His name just came through my keyboard. Anyway, thanks to everyone for reviewing. I've had lots of luck on the job front (why does it always all happen at once?) which may not be so lucky for you, but I'm going to try really hard to stay motivated on this. Really.

Also, this hasn't been edited because I'm rushing off to my cottage for the weekend. I'm go over it when I get back so don't worry about the grammar – I just wanted to get it out! Alright, enough of me. Enjoy! (P.S. Cut out the death threats toward Blaise! He's just... an obstacle.)

OOOoooOOO

Harry lifted his head from his pillow and looked around, eyes moving blearily from left to right and then down.

That wasn't his pillow.

That was Draco-shaped.

He glanced to the windows lining one wall of the apartment and saw no sign of the sun. Without a second thought, he laid back down, shuffled around to get comfortable, and drifted back to sleep.

OOOoooOOO

The next time he came around, it was to of an inconveniently placed ray of sunshine. Harry reached down to drag the blankets over his face, and felt nothing.

'Oh right,' was the only coherent thought in his head.

He supported the upper half of his body while he tried to orient himself. He rarely fell asleep on couches anymore, as he found it wasn't an altogether pleasant experience. His back cracked as he looked down at Draco, who was still very much asleep. As cliché a thought as it was, he really would look like a sleeping angel, if not for the gentle snoring.

It was the first time Harry had woken up with somebody since his breakup with Sophie. It was to this, that Harry attributed his almost instinctive desire to peck his best friend good morning. It was almost disturbing how natural the idea felt as Harry swished it around in his mind. Obviously he wouldn't, though. Because that would cross several boundaries.

Not to mention Harry's heterosexuality.

His firm, unyielding, heterosexuality.

The only man he'd ever been with was lying beneath him. While Draco had taken his brief stint with Harry as a new way of life, and completely adopted the gay lifestyle, Harry had been more reserved. It wasn't that his attraction to certain gorgeous men had completely dropped off the face of the earth, rather he still found himself equally attracted to women. That being the more socially acceptable route, was the one he travelled.

So if Draco, along with most of the Wizarding world, assumed him to be straight, who was he to argue?

Draco sighed in his sleep before shifting underneath the other man. As the blonde's hips rubbed against Harry's thigh, he noticed something. A rather stiff something. Harry inhaled sharply.

It wasn't that Harry had never been in the presence of Draco's erection before. He had inadvertently walked in on many a random shag involving the other man, and even a few wanks. It had just been several years since he'd felt the organ pressed against himself.

Though, let it never be said that Harry lacked self control. The amount of sheer willpower that went in to not being attracted to his best friend came in handy, and he quickly picked himself up so he was standing beside the couch.

The abrupt removal of heat woke Draco.

"Wha?" he muttered eloquently.

"We fell asleep. It's morning." Harry kept his eyes firmly on the still closed ones of the blonde. He beat down the part of his brain that wanted to drift lower and take in the denim covered erection.

"Naa," drawled Draco, as his body relaxed and he seemed to succumb once more to sleep.

'Willpower, willpower, willpower.' Harry's mantra.

But just one look couldn't hurt. It wasn't as though he would be overcome with lust and molest a sleeping man. He swallowed hard and lowered his gaze.

The sight made his stomach jerk.

The grey shirt had ridden up sometime in the night and his tight torso, to just above his belly button was exposed. A thin trail of dirty blond hair led Harry's eyes downward, to the elastic of, what Harry would bet, was a very expensive designer pair of boxer briefs. Below that, were his dark wash jeans. The zipper was tented slightly, in a curve that Harry immediately recognized to be concealing an erection.

Harry's nostrils flared in arousal and he felt his own groin pulse with the sudden redirection of blood. Why did Draco have to look like a bloody Armani model? It didn't help his sexuality.

The tip of his erection was just at the edge of his low slung trousers, but the boxers prevented any viewing, to Harry's displeasure.

No.

To Harry's relief. Relief.

Draco's hand suddenly entered his line of vision, snapping Harry from his trance. He watched, now slightly uneasily, as the hand scratched absently at the bare skin of his abdomen. His eyes followed the hand as it moved a fraction of an inch lower and rested teasingly on the elastic.

He swallowed and glanced up at Draco's face. To his utter and horrified embarrassment, Draco looked back.

"See something you like?" he purred teasingly, and Harry caught the hand moving out the corner of his eye.

Harry rolled his eyes as his face flamed. "You wish, you poof. Now get up and make me breakfast. I'm going for a shower." He said this in one breath and quickly made his way to the washroom. There was no way he would give Draco the chance to notice his own hard on.

As he stripped, he tried not to think of what Draco was probably doing at that exact moment. With the bathroom taken up, he couldn't piss away his morning wood. Only one other way.

Harry distantly wondered why you would always think of the one thing you were trying not to, and reached down to grasp his erection. He would have to be quick, so as to not arouse suspicion. Luckily, he didn't think that would be a problem.

OOOoooOOO

Harry left the bathroom with a towel around his waist. He wandered into the kitchen, toward the smell of bacon and saw an adorably mused Draco juggling three pans at once.

"Can I borrow some clothes?" He did regularly, but he insisted on asking, no matter what Draco insisted.

"Course, course." He waved him away.

Sorting through the Draco's closet had always astounded Harry. He simply could not believe how many clothes a person could own. The closet had been magically expanded – one of the only Wizarding signs in the apartment, and Harry was sure a tent could be comfortably pitched, just within the walking space.

"Jeans, jeans, jeans," Harry muttered to himself as he racked through suit after suit. The majority of which, he'd never seen Draco wear.

He finally stumbled upon the 'normal' section of his wardrobe, which still took up significantly more room that Harry's own.

One of the reasons Harry always asked was that he was vaguely uncomfortable with the idea of wearing another man's underwear. That being said, if he could make love to the other man's boxer briefs, he would. He himself only owned boxers and, while they were comfortable, they were nothing compared to the gentle and soft experience that was the briefs.

He slipped them on and sighed happily.

Because they were Draco's.

That was absurd.

And yet so obviously true.

Once dressed in the simplest clothes he could find, which still weren't very simple, he joined Draco for breakfast.

"You know," he said, sitting down at the plate, "this isn't exactly a health conscientious meal.

Draco stopped mid chew to glare at him incredulously.

"What in Merlin's name are you on about?"

"It's a bloody heart attack on a plate," Harry said, picking through his several pieces of bacon. The plate was pilled high with fried eggs, baked beans and bacon. Harry's favourites, but typically in moderation.

"I thought you liked these," Draco gestured to his own plate, which held considerably less food.

Harry tilted his head in deliberation. "Are you trying to fatten me up? Why do I have twice as much food as you?" He looked between their two plates again. The difference was apparent.

Draco frowned and sighed. "Nothing," he mumbled in annoyance, "I just thought you liked it."

Harry frowned as well, and looked to his plate, as if it would hold the answers to the odd conversation. "I do. Thanks, I guess." He glanced around, shifty eyed. What had he missed in the shower?

The rest of their meal was passed in a strange silence.

"Anyway, I should probably be off." Harry brought his plate to the sink. He'd finished all but two pieces of bacon, trying not to hurt Draco's feelings. Draco's feelings? Since when did he have to worry about something like that?

"Where are you going?" Draco asked, standing up to join him.

"I've still got that article to write, you know," Harry smiled awkwardly, unsure of what had just happened. Sometimes, he wished Draco had come with an instructions booklet.

"Oh, okay. Can I come over tonight?"

The question in itself was a strange one, as they rarely warned each other before popping in. Which, Harry reflected, was probably why he'd walked in on Draco with his conquests so often.

"Sure. What did you want to do?"

Draco shrugged, "Whatever. Maybe go out."

"Oh. You actually want to go out?" Harry was surprised. They hadn't been out together in months.

"I thought we could go to The Broomstick. You could just dance, you know? Not have to impress the ladies."

'Ward off advances from men all night, you mean?' Harry's brain supplied quite helpfully. His mouth wasn't cooperating, however, and he agreed, "Okay. Come by around nine and we can get ready."

OOOoooOOO

"Harry," Ron sighed dramatically, "are you done the article?"

"I..." he pulled a shirt over his head, "Not..." he tugged it off and threw it on to the pile of others, "Almost."

"You shouldn't go out tonight," he said with a raised eyebrow. Harry agreed. He really shouldn't go out for the night. He didn't have time. He'd only just recovered from his last hangover, and his article still needed serious revising. Not to mention a title.

"Whatever. I'm young." He grinned cheekily at the redhead.

"Would you be this insistent if it were me who'd invited you?" A small smile played at Ron's lips.

Harry scowled, unwilling to admit anything. "Weasleys weren't made to smirk. Stop it."

"You didn't answer my question."

Harry sighed. "It's just that we never go out together anymore. I'm allowed to look forward to it, aren't I? He's my best friend. Of course I want to spend time with him."

"I know." Ron left the sentence hanging between them, and pushed off Harry's bedroom door frame.

Harry glared after him. Since when did Ron notice things? What if he saw into the way he and Draco were together? What if he mentioned something to him? That would...

"Ron!" he called, a hint of desperation colouring his voice.

"Yes?" he reappeared at the doorway.

"What... What are you talking about?" He glanced uneasily around, avoiding Ron's eyes.

"What do you mean? I was in the kitchen." Another smirk. Damned Weasley.

"Bugger off. About Draco and me. What are you getting at?"

Ron shrugged, seemingly at ease with the conversation, something Harry was most definitely not. "Just that you seem rather close. You always have."

"So?" Arms crossed defensively.

"It's just not the way best friends treat each other. Look at Seamus and Dean. You don't see them sleeping at each other's places more days than not." When Harry's eyes flared up in anger, he backed off, hands in the air. "Listen, Harry. I'm not saying anything. I'm just saying."

Harry turned his back. Was that how Ron saw his relationship? Did others as well? What did Sirius and Remus think of them? That they were secretly together, behind Sophie and Blaise's backs? That was ridiculous. More than ridiculous.

"Fine. Just please leave, I have to finish getting dressed."

He heard the door close from behind him, and almost immediately heard a knocking on the main door. Draco was right on time, and Harry was once again running late. Pathetically predictable.

Seconds later, his bedroom door opened and he felt a smile stretch his face even before he turned.

"What took you so long?"

Draco's eyes ran down Harry's half dressed body and sighed. "I have some work to do. Lucky we arranged to meet so early. Get those pants off; you're not wearing them to a gay club."

What was wrong with Harry's trousers, he never found out, but ten minutes later, he was dressed in clothes he'd only been distantly aware he owned. And he had to say: he looked bloody sexy.

Not as sexy as Draco, but then, no one ever did.

They passed Ron on the way out the door, and Harry ignored the knowing half smile on his face. Let him think what he would. Harry was just out to have a good time.

OOOoooOOO

Okay so here we have a Harry who is so utterly conflicted that it's sad. But he's not so much oblivious. I hope I made that clear. Anyway, please let me know what you thought!


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: For those confused about why Harry's going to a gay club if he's straight... Because Draco asked him to. I've been to gay clubs with my lesbian friends. I don't see the problem. Anyway, it's sort of explained through Harry's thought process, so hopefully that helps you understand.

Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you're still enjoying it, even though it's dragging on. I promise it won't be too much longer for our boys!

OOOoooOOO

Blaring music assaulted Harry's being as they walked through the doors to The Broomstick. The bouncer had recognized Draco, apparently a regular, and let them straight through.

Lasers pointed tackily around the room, but the dance floor was packed, and the bar looked to be the same.

As Harry had predicted, there were many a fag hag perving on the men from side booths.

"Come on," Draco grabbed his wrist and pulled him through the throng of dancers to the bar. As had happened at the door, he elbowed his way through the crowd and was immediately recognized and taken care of.

"Here," he handed him a rum and Coke. "Let's go find a booth."

Harry considered mentioning that he'd stopped drinking rum and Cokes years ago, but thought better of it. Best not to draw attention to the reason for their lack of clubbing together.

Draco had been upset that he never hooked up when he went out with Harry. They both knew why, though the reason had never been spoken. People had constantly assumed they were together, perhaps because of their behaviour.

Harry had memories of grinding relentlessly against Draco, surrounded by leering male dancers. Hot breath on the back of his neck and an erection against his arse.

When Harry and Draco got drunk together, things tended to dwindle into sexuality. The apparent unavailability, and resulting abstinence had led Draco to declare, perhaps out of sexual frustration, that they could no longer be clubbing buddies. Hence their self enforced refusal to drink together.

He supposed that Draco had matured out of that faze. Why else would he feel comfortable inviting Harry out with him?

It was all a moot point, anyway, as Harry was not getting drunk. A few drinks to loosen him up, and that was it.

They sat down at a booth and he watched Draco take a gulp of his own rum and Coke. Not the behaviour of a man intending to stay sober.

Conversation was made difficult by the blasting music, so they sat, silently watching the dance floor and occasionally offering each other smiles, until the waitress came with more drinks. Draco downed his straight away and stood up.

"Dance?" he shouted, pointing at the floor.

Harry shook his head. 'Remember,' he told himself. No matter how good Draco's denim covered arse looked as he walked into the crowd, he couldn't follow him. No good would come of it.

He slowly nursed his second glass, and fended off a couple more offers to dance. In the time it took him to finish his second, he saw that Draco had been back to the bar twice, doing what appeared to be shots of tequila. Harry smiled and shook his head. He knew he'd have to carry the blonde home.

Once he'd finished his drink, he meandered on to the dance floor, trying not to attract much attention. He didn't mind dancing around all the gay men, so long as the groping was kept to a minimum. He'd always found gay clubs more relaxing, as he didn't feel the need to hit on everything that moved. It almost seemed an expectation when a young man was at a club, that he had to bring a woman home. Here, there was no such pressure.

Sure, a few hands to shake off every once in awhile, but people generally caught a clue very quickly.

A few men smiled at him when he arrived on the floor, and he smiled tightly back, ensuring that they not get the wrong idea.

He closed his eyes and lost himself in the music. They'd never had music growing up, and he found, after his first visit to a club, that he was hooked. The pulsing beat and heartfelt melody pulled at him, and he was gone. He loved the heat of surrounding bodies, and the movement and energy he felt coming off them, even the muggles. This was a whole new kind of magic.

He moved his body away from one sneaking up behind him without another thought. To let it bother him would be the height of hypocrisy, given his standing crush.

The better part of an hour passed before he started feeling it in his muscles. He wasn't used to dancing for any length of time. Normally he'd sit with friends, or chat with women. Just as he was thinking about taking a break for the bar, he felt another hand on his hip. He moved away from it slightly, but the hand persisted.

"Not interested," he yelled behind him. No point in being gentle if the man couldn't take a hint.

"Not yet," the voice called back.

Harry's face screwed up at the line and he glanced at the man for the first time.

As much as he hated to agree with the crude pick up, the body caught his interest. The man's shirt, like many others, had been abandoned and his chest and stomach were on display. Even in the darkness of the club, he knew he was looking at something special. Sweat curved a path around the man's firm pectorals and winded down his tight stomach. Luckily, he caught a sparkling glint by the other's belly button and snapped from his examination. Body jewellery was not welcome. On women or men.

"Sorry, still not interested." He raised an eyebrow, daring the other to pursue it.

In an act that Harry considered very ballsy indeed, the man reached his arms around Harry's waist and pulled him closer.

"Just give us a shot, yes? You've not danced with one man since you arrived." His hips started swaying slowly to the beat, encouraging Harry to do the same.

It was a new situation. Men had never persisted in hitting on him in these clubs but, as he now fully understood, it was because they thought him to be with Draco. He'd never quite managed to reverse that logic.

It discomfited him to even think it, but he was curious. The only man he'd ever touched was Draco, and that had been ages ago. The fact that he'd enjoyed it immensely had always made him wonder. Was it just Draco or was it men in general?

He reluctantly allowed himself be led by the man, neither objecting nor participating.

He kept a nice rhythm, which helped lull Harry in to a sense of calm and ease. As the last of his reluctance fell away, their hips touched. The erection pressed against him was obvious, but Harry had been expecting it. Most of the men in the building were probably hard.

It didn't make him uncomfortable, per say, more uneasy. His nerves were on edge and he was very aware of his own crotch, which remained flaccid. Did that mean he wasn't bisexual? If this gorgeous man couldn't get a rise out of him, then who could?

He knew the answer to that without thinking, and it jolted his mind to the present, in which he was dancing closely with another man. He pulled away without a word and pushed his way to the bar, ignoring the protests from the shirtless man.

He reached the bar and leaned against it heavily with a sigh. There wasn't enough alcohol in his body to justify that dance. He ordered a Dirty Nipple shot and downed it.

"Another?" The bartended asked.

"No, tha-" he was cut off.

"Bring over two, thanks." He turned towards Draco's voice and smiled.

"I didn't want another, but if it's on you..." he chuckled, "How can I say no?"

"My thoughts exactly." Draco ran a hand through his sweaty hair. "I saw you with your handful over there," he smirked, "Going home with him?"

Harry turned red and ignored his question in favour of one of his own. "How much have you had to drink, Mr. Malfoy?" He said it jokingly, but was curious. Draco's cheekbones were flushed, and he couldn't tell if it was from alcohol or exertion.

Draco's smirk widened and he said, "Enough. Which is more than I can say for you." The bartender placed the two shots before the men, and Draco pushed them both towards Harry.

"Drink up, mate."

Against Harry's better judgement, he tilted his head back and took both shots in quick succession. It had been an hour since he'd last had alcohol. How much harm could a few drinks do?

Draco apparently thought the same, as he slid the drinks back and yelled for more.

"No!" Harry grabbed his arm and shook his head emphatically. "Someone's going to have to carry you to the nearest fireplace, and I don't see anyone else willing to do the job. I'm sober and I'm staying that way."

Draco's mouth fell open and he laughed. "You're not going to have to carry me to the Floo! I'm perfectly capable. I'll have you know, none of my abilities are impaired. Not a single one." He continued chuckling for longer than was necessary.

Harry couldn't help but smile along. "How many drinks have you had?" He stressed his earlier question.

"I... No more than about," Draco looked to the ceiling and his lips moved. "Seven. No. Maybe eight. No more than eight."

The bartender brought the pair two more shots and Draco downed them quickly, without a wince.

"Not anymore," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"What?" he looked up, confused.

"You've had ten now." He pointed to the two empty shot glasses.

Draco frowned at them in surprise. "Oh, yeah."

"Great Merlin," Harry half groaned, half laughed. He wondered how many other shots Draco had forgotten about.

"Well, no matter. Let's dance." Draco dragged Harry the few feet to the wall of dancing bodies and forced his way through, Harry following, having been taken almost comically off guard.

They stopped abruptly when Draco found a bit of floor space.

Harry knew it was a bad idea. He'd abstained from drinking all night to avoid this very situation. Bloody Malfoy couldn't hold his alcohol. No problem, though, so long as one of them was sober to keep the situation from getting out of hand.

And besides, he didn't know that there would even be a situation to keep from getting out of hand.

They danced comfortably for a few minutes, coming in contact only briefly and, on Harry's part, by accident.

Draco pulled him closer, and Harry looked up to his eyes. They were sparkling, and his lips were turned up in a playful grin.

"What are you doing?" Their torso's were close now, and the fabric of Harry's shirt was brushing teasingly against his nipples.

He felt himself caught off guard as Draco closed the distance between them, keeping mischievous eye contact. Harry wanted to glance away, to shake his head. Anything. But he was captivated. The sheer number of dreams he'd had, in which Draco looked at him the way he was now.

He felt light headed and tried to attribute it to the alcohol hitting his system, but as he stared in to Draco's stormy eyes, he couldn't quite delegate the blame.

Their torsos were still a few inches apart, to Harry's relief. If he could get out of this now, he wouldn't be stuck with still more memories of his lustful best friend.

Draco brought his lips in to Harry's ear and purred, "Nothing. Would you like me to do something?" He chuckled.

This was different from Harry's memories of dancing with Draco. They tended to be filled with drunken groping and desperation. This was teasing. Draco was barely brushing against him with every movement, and the hot breath on his neck was giving him goosebumps. A hand snaked around to Harry's lower back and cupped it gently, dipping half an inch lower to feel the curve of his spine.

Harry's body instinctively arched into the touch, but he backed up slightly, away from Draco.

"Stop." With his face no longer in Draco's neck, he felt his words might have more force.

Draco's pulled him right back into close contact, and brought a hand to caress his neck ever so gently.

"Do you really want me to stop?" he whispered in his ear.

As Draco brought them closer still, Harry felt his second erection of the night. The difference in reactions was extreme. Harry's stomach clenched and blood rushed from his head to his prick.

It was so easy to let Draco tilt his head. So easy to look in to his eyes as he licked his lips. Easier still to close his eyes and let Draco kiss him.

His lips were gentle at first, as they parted Harry's. His breath tasted of alcohol, and all he felt was heat. The soft but firm lips captured his bottom lip and suckled, coaxing a moan out of Harry.

The teasing lips weren't enough, given the heat of the body against him, and Harry opened his mouth in invitation. He didn't have to wait long for the invading tongue, and they both moaned when the slick muscles met. Harry's heart welled in his chest. He didn't care that he would regret it later. He didn't care that Draco might not remember.

They hadn't kissed since their stint at Hogwarts and it seemed that Draco had come a long way. His tongue traced the roof of Harry's mouth, and all around his tongue. He sucked at his tongue, and their bodies started moving together, once again becoming aware of the music.

Harry was not at all surprised to feel his own erection grind up against Draco's. He thrust automatically, trying to find more friction underneath the layers.

Draco broke the kiss and groaned quite loudly at the contact. His head fell back and Harry moved to play with his neck.

"Fuck, Harry." He circled his hips, attempting to find a rhythm.

Harry grabbed at the back of his shirt, mashing their bodies together. He could feel Draco's abs contracting against his own, and even a tight nipple dragging across his chest.

"Do you..." Draco swallowed and looked into Harry's eyes intently, "Do you want to go?"

OOOoooOOO

See what I did there? I stopped teasing you. Well. Cept at the end. Please review and let me know what you think!


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: Wow what a huge mixed reaction. I definitely didn't see that coming. I'm working now, so the updates won't be coming quite as fast but I'm still very dedicated to what's happening, so I won't be slacking, I promise!

Hopefully you enjoy this chapter! And by the way, more of you have me on alert than have reviewed. If you like it enough to alert it, let me know what you like!

OOOoooOOO

Harry grabbed at the back of his shirt, mashing their bodies together. He could feel Draco's abs contracting against his own, and even a tight nipple dragging across his chest.

"Do you..." Draco swallowed and looked into Harry's eyes intently, "Do you want to go?"

OOOoooOOO

The question hit Harry, quite literally, below the belt. His cock twitched in response, and heat flooded his lower body. Did he want to go home with Draco? Fuck yes.

As a male, a buzzed and horny male, he wanted it. He wanted it with everything he had. He leaned his head against Draco's shoulder to break eye contact. The pleading in his best friend's familiar eyes was not helping any decision.

His mind quickly supplied the reasons he didn't want to say yes – it hadn't worked out last time. Draco was drunk and probably didn't even realize what he was suggesting.

The aforementioned blonde had taken advantage of Harry's bare neck, and was sucking strongly.

But maybe Draco wanted him soberly, Harry's mind supplied uselessly, as their hips grinded together.

It wasn't as though he was taking advantage of Draco. He was very much the seducee in the situation. Besides, he'd probably pass out before they could even get their pants off. And he'd need someone to care for him. He wouldn't remember this in the morning, and then they could pretend it had never happened. 'Good plan, Harry,' the lust driven portion of his mind congratulated the rational portion on a firm decision.

He looked into Draco's half closed eyes and said, "Let's go."

Draco's face lit up, making Harry's chest clench. Did he really want it, or was he just looking for a lay?

They made their way to the doors and then to the alleyway to apparate. Harry put his arms around Draco, who was drunk enough to splinch himself, and popped them to Draco's flat. Easier for a morning escape, as Harry rationalized.

They both blinked in the normal light at his flat. Their eyes had adjusted to seeing in the blackness of the club. Once Harry could place himself, which by the couch as he'd planned, Draco pushed gently on his shoulders, causing him to fall back in a sitting position on the soft leather.

He watched with wide eyes and parted lips as Draco unbuttoned his own shirt and peeled it back from his sweat-slickened body. He licked his lips, breathing hard, finally allowed to stare openly at the glorious body before him.

Harry let his hand wander down to the crotch of his jeans and rub the cloth covered erection, enjoying the show in front of him.

Draco groaned at the sight of his friend touching himself and threw his shirt over his shoulder. "Merlin, Harry, do you really want this?" Appearing indifferent to the answer, he knelt in a straddle above the brunet and brought their lips within inches.

He could once again feel the warm breath, smelling of alcohol, but it felt different this time. He could clearly see Draco, and the pounding bass was gone, replaced only by soft sighs as their hips met. It occurred to him, quite clearly, that this was his best friend. He didn't want to fuck things up, as they had at Hogwarts. But maybe, just maybe, it would work out.

Did he want to do this?

"Can we just..." he swallowed as his speaking brought their lips into contact. Draco didn't seem to be paying attention, as he bent lower, kissing the side of his mouth very softly. Harry swallowed once more, reflexively. "Can we just go slow?"

His erection objected fervently to the idea, but Harry's brain applauded the effort.

"I can do slow." Draco hadn't moved away, and seemed to take the end of the conversation as an excuse to kiss him more thoroughly.

Harry's definition of 'slow' wavered as his hands came up to support Draco's back and met the bare skin. He ran his hands along the ridges of muscles. He'd forgotten the feel of being with a man. Women were soft and fleshy, but Draco was hard, angular, rough.

His mind reeled to find a boundary before he was too far gone, and everything sounded good.

Draco reached under his shirt and played with the trail of hair he found, before gently pushing the material upward. He pulled the shirt over his head and where it landed, neither cared.

"Slow," Draco murmured under his breath as he took in Harry's flushed upper body. "Remind me. How slow?" He ran his hand over the other's chest, tweaking a nipple as he went.

Harry sucked in a breath at the sharp sensation and closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind. How slow. How slow? Then hand was trailing downwards, coming ever so close to his waistband, before doubling back up, over his other pectoral. Harry let his head fall back, cushioned by the headrest.

"Harry?"

"Hm?" he opened his eyes. Draco was watching him intently.

"How slow?" His serious expression took Harry off guard and he found himself able to think.

"Let's just... keep the trousers on, for now, yeah?" He blushed at having to verbalize what they were doing.

A smile stretched across Draco's face, leaving him to look utterly content. "For now." He leaned in for another kiss, which Harry gladly obliged.

Draco once again began rocking their hips together and Harry tried to reciprocate, despite the unusual position. Their hands explored each other's unfamiliarly matured bodies, discovering hidden sweet spots along the way.

Harry groaned loudly into his mouth as Draco's hand brushed his lower ribs, a place Sophie had never managed to discover in their years together. Likewise, Harry noticed the goosebumps appear on the blonde's skin after his finger trailed down his neck and along his collarbone.

Neither man was accustomed to so little stimulation, after years of being sexually active. Harry had grown frustrated with the lack of friction on his erection, and could tell Draco had as well, by his erratic movements.

Harry slid his hand down from where it had been playing with the other's bellybutton, to the large bulge at the front of Draco's jeans.

"Can I..." He squeezed the bulge firmly, unable to believe his own actions.

Draco gave a muffled cry and jerked his hips forward at the grip. "Fuck."

Choosing to interpret that as an enthusiastic yes, Harry loosened his grip and continued to squeeze the erection rhythmically through the trousers.

"Shit, Harry. Bloody Merlin." Draco's fumbling hands found Harry's own erection and gave it the same treatment, occasionally attempting to slide his hand down the length.

They lost themselves in the sensation of being with each other. Sweating, panting, gasping, thrusting.

Harry found himself on the edge after embarrassingly little time. A few more pumps would do it. He grasped the back of Draco's neck and brought him in to a heated and sloppy kiss, and mumbled something along the lines of, "Cming".

He tensed and jerked as his world centered around Draco's hand on his cock and tongue in his mouth. He inhaled sharply, and the scent of sheer masculinity nearly made him swoon. He came with a loud moan, and shuddered, pressed between man and couch. His body arched as fully as it could underneath a full grown man, and he broke away from Draco's mouth to cry his name.

He opened his eyes to look at Draco and found him staring back, seemingly spellbound. His face was an open book, and Harry saw a mixture of wonder, lust and giddiness.

Then, becoming unexpectedly animated, his face contorted in almost painful pleasure and he gripped the nape of Harry's neck hard. He pressed his pelvis into Harry's hand, and threw his head back violently as he came.

"Bloody..." he choked. "Harry!"

After a moment, he started coming down from his orgasm and sat back in Harry's lap. He nuzzled into his neck and gripped him tightly.

Harry sat contently with his lap-full while his breathing evened out, at which point, he wondered if Draco was still conscious.

"Draco?" he whispered, prodding his arm lightly.

"Mhm?" the reply was sleepy, but he didn't think he'd woken him.

"Do you want to move to the bed? I can't feel my legs."

"Mm," he hummed. Harry shivered at the vibration, and Draco kissed his neck very gently.

There was silence for another few moments before Draco said, "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"I feel sticky, and not at all pleasant."

Harry's snort developed into a full on laugh when Draco pulled back and Harry was able to see his disgusted face.

"Go to your room and change. You should probably wait to shower in the morning. I don't want you falling and cracking your head open." He pushed the blonde off of him and towards his room. He could use with a change himself, but a cleaning charm would have to suffice.

Two minutes later, when Harry walked into his bedroom, Draco was passed out on his stomach, wearing only a pair of clean boxer briefs and one sock.

Satisfied that his friend would survive the night, he stumbled tiredly back to the couch and, kicking off his shoes, fell in to his own dreams.

OOOoooOOO

"Harry," a voice whined into his ear, "Harry, wake up."

He cracked one eye hesitantly, but found it was still night time, and opened his eyes properly. Draco was crouched on the floor beside the sofa, hair in complete disarray, one hand clutching his head, as if in pain.

"Are you up?"

"Yem," Harry muttered incoherently. "Wha you want?" He'd probably only been asleep two or three hours, and had been properly unconscious.

"I'm a fucking idiot." His voice caught on the words, causing Harry to turn, looking at him more closely. He seemed worryingly close to tears.

"What are you talking about?" He was still half asleep and now strangely concerned.

"I took advantage of you." Draco ended the sentence with a sob and Harry rolled his eyes, choking back a laugh. Bloody emotional drunk.

"Draco," Harry rolled off the couch and put a hand on his trembling shoulder. "You didn't take advantage of me. I was well up for it, if you remember."

"No!" he all but wailed. Harry tried hunching his shoulder to cover his ear but failed. "I made you. I forced you!"

"Would you calm the fuck down? Do you really think you could force me to do anything? Much less... that?"

Draco sniffed pathetically. "No."

"Well then, problem solved. Now lets get you back to bed. Why are you even awake?"

"I dunno," he replied, in a tone that suggested it was a very good question indeed.

"Come on." He helped him under the still tucked covers and caressed his hair. "Comfy?" he yawned.

Draco moaned his approval and cuddled deeper into the bed. "You stayin'?" he asked tiredly, eyes already closed.

"I'll be on the couch. I expect the smell of breakfast to wake me up, yeah?" As he'd suspected, his words fell on unconscious ears. Draco's light snoring reminded Harry of what he'd most like to be doing, and he once again staggered to the couch.

OOOoooOOO

The next time Harry woke up, it was with a strong sense of déjà vu. Draco was kneeling next to him, one hand on his shoulder, one on his hip.

"Harry?" he whispered.

"Mmm," he rolled into the touch, and off the couch. Draco jolted back, surprised, and Harry landed with a dull thud on the floor.

"Ow." He peered towards the ceiling, opening his eyes a crack. Draco hovered over him, his expression one of amused concerned.

"You okay?" he was still whispering.

"Mostly." He sat up, rubbing his ribs. "Why are you being so quiet?"

"I think I'm dying."

He said it so matter-of-factly that Harry glanced to him in unease. "Why?"

"Hung-over. Do you know if I have any potion?"

"Erm," Harry grimaced. "Not unless you've bought some in the past week." He guiltily hoped that Draco wouldn't remember that Harry had downed the last of it the morning after Sophie had broken up with him. "I'll just pop out to get some more."

He ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair, not really caring. He was planning on just nipping back to his flat. He was positive Ron had bought some recently.

"I'll make breakfast while you're out." Draco said, walking precariously to the kitchen, looking as though he'd like nothing more than to pass out cold. Harry felt a tug at the corner of his lips.

"Just lie down, I'll be right back."

It was a testament to Draco's headache that he ignored his usual stubbornness, and listened to Harry, collapsing against the couch.

Harry smiled and rummaged for his shoes, which he found lying near where he'd found his shirt the previous night.

"Be back in a tick."

OOOoooOOO

Another chapter done! I might make myself a little trophy for so many updates. Seriously, I know it's expected, but I'm really bad with meeting expectations. Now, this is the last of the chapters I had written before I started my summer job, so I don't think I'll be able to write much, except on the weekends. I will seriously try, though. Seriously. I'm not kidding.

...

I know you think I'm kidding, but I PROMISE. No more three months with no updates.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: Quoi? Ron's point of view? I thought it was time for a change of pace. And don't worry, it's not the whole chapter, just the first bit. The boys have their own time.

And look at me, not procrastinating even though I have a real life now :)

Anyway, thanks to all for reviewing! I loved hearing your reactions to the last chapter. Everyone is a little skeptical that Draco won't remember. You pessimistic lot, you. I'm not dragging this story on for THAT long, haha. Enjoy!

OOOoooOOO

Ron nearly fell backwards off his chair when Harry apparated mere feet in front of him. He was looking worse for wear, in the same clothes he'd left in the night before, and eyes swollen from lack of sleep.

He didn't appear to have noticed Ron sitting at the kitchen table, and immediately started riffling through the kitchen cupboards. Ron watched him for a few moments before curiosity got the better of him.

"What you looking for, mate?"

As predicted, Harry turned suddenly, exclaiming quietly.

"Merlin, you scared me."

He shrugged. "What are you looking for?"

"Did we have any hangover potion, do you remember?" He had turned back and resumed his hunt.

"Are you sure? You know it's expensive and you're not looking so ill..." Ron arched an eyebrow. In fact, other than his ruffled hair and red eyes, he looked fine. Not green around the edges or anything.

"It's for Draco. He's run out."

Ah. Of course it was. Money was no object between two who had it. And he should have realized that Harry had slept over, when he hadn't heard him come back this morning.

Ron had suspected for years that they'd been seeing each other in secret. In secret, he'd assumed, because Harry had a girlfriend. He'd fully expected Harry to admit it the previous night, when he'd confronted him while dressing. Apparently not.

If they kept spending the night together though, eventually more people would catch on.

"It's in the washroom. I figure that's where you usually need it." He said this last with a smirk, remembering the times either he or Harry had been confined to leaning over the toilet, and hadn't been able to find the potion.

Harry cracked a smile and rushed through to the other room. He emerged a second later, holding a small vial.

"Thanks. I'm rushing back but I'll be home later. Want me to pick up supper?"

"Curry would be lovely."

"You got it. See you."

"Harry, wait." He stopped him, just as Harry was pocketing the vial.

"What is it?"

"Just... You guy should probably be more discreet, you know?"

Harry turned slowly on the spot, so he was facing the kitchen cabinet, instead of Ron. "Are you on about this again?" He swallowed hard, and Ron's eyes were drawn downwards, to a telling bruise on his neck.

He raised an eyebrow skeptically and grinned. "Whatever, mate. If you feel like telling me anything, I'm here." It was just too obvious.

Harry blushed and frowned at him, angry. "Fuck you, Ron. We're not seeing each other. Why would we even hide that?" He was becoming flustered, gesturing widely, "Merlin, it's not as though I'd be afraid to tell you. Trust me. We're not fucking involved!"

Without another word, Harry apparated on the spot.

Ron's smile didn't fade, and he exhaled his humour into the empty room. To steal a phrase of Hermione's, 'Me thinks he doth protest too much'.

OOOoooOOO

Harry popped back to the other flat to find Draco standing by the kettle. It was whistling shrilly, but his eyes were unfocussed, and he was lounging against the counter. Despite himself, he was impressed that Draco hadn't yet collapsed from the combination of headache and whistling.

He walked quietly over and took the kettle off the stove. The blonde looked up in surprise and smiled.

"I got your potion." He held it out, returning the smile.

Draco's relief was palpable. "Thanks. I wasn't quite sure I was going to make it."

"At least you placed yourself in a calm, quiet environment," he said, smiling sarcastically.

"Yeah..."

His smile dropped a little. Draco still seemed to be miles away as he grabbed a few mugs from the cupboard.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Um, are you sure? You've just said 'yeah' three times over."

"Yea-" He broke off, blushing. "Just not feeling well."

"Erm, well," He glanced pointedly to the vial Draco was still holding. "You could take the potion." He wondered why his friend was so distracted. A tiny niggling fear in his stomach insisted that he was thinking about the night before and regretting it, but it was way too early, by Draco standards, to be thinking about something like that.

The Slytherin looked down to his hand, seeming a little confused as to how he came to be holding the vial. He uncorked it and downed it gratefully. Not moments later, the crease between his eyebrows relaxed and he let out a pleased sigh. Harry knew the feeling of a hangover potion taking effect, and smiled on his behalf.

"Better, now?"

"Sure." Despite his physical remedy, there was still an air of tension surrounding the man. Something that didn't, Harry felt, bode well for him.

"Okay..." he trailed into silence as Draco made them tea.

The blonde had just added a lump of sugar to his own cup, when he stopped and turned to Harry quite abruptly.

"I was thinking about..." he ran a hand through his hair, in an uncharacteristic show of stress, "What happened last night."

Harry blinked and fought down the blush that suddenly threatened to overtake him. "And...?"

"I was thinking..." Silence.

"Mm," Harry said, prompting him.

"I shouldn't have done that." He diverted his eyes to the still steaming kettle.

Harry shrugged, aware that Draco's peripheral vision would pick it up.

"So..." He took a deep breath. "Sorry about that."

Harry frowned, embarrassed. "You don't have to be sorry."

Draco glanced to Harry. "What?"

"Well, I..." flustered, Harry groped for the appropriate phrase. "I mean, I didn't try to stop you. I didn't mind."

He saw Draco's throat work as he swallowed. He didn't say anything, but his eyes were moving rapidly, as though watching scenery pass by. He licked his lips before speaking.

"What do you mean?"

The conversation was so transparently awkward for both of them that Harry almost laughed. However, having the insight that laughing could only make things more awkward, he didn't. Instead, he shifted his stance and rubbed the palm of his hand with his opposite thumb.

"You know." He paused, hoping Draco would jump in and claim that yes, he did know, and there was no need to elaborate. He didn't. "I didn't stop you, so..."

"Do you mean that you wanted to do it?" His face was a careful mask, and even Harry, who'd had years of practice couldn't decipher it.

There were several ways he could answer that question. He could deny, deny, deny. But he'd had enough of that. Five years too much, in fact. He could throw the question back in his face, but that would get them absolutely nowhere, and probably prolong the conversation. Or, he could be the adult he was and just say...

"Yes."

Draco blinked rapidly for a moment, and licked his lips again.

Harry took advantage of his stunned state. "Did you want to?"

A moment to process the words, and Draco replied, "No, Harry, I do that with all my friends." His tone was drenched with sarcasm. More than Harry thought he really had any right to use, given his choice of close friends, and the fact that he'd slept with them all.

"But you were drunk. Obviously you wouldn't have hit on me otherwise. I mean, I feel..." He trailed off and shook his head. He wouldn't continue on that phrasing.

Draco licked his lips, and Harry wondered offhandedly if he should offer him a lip balm. Then again, perhaps this was normal for an uncomfortable Draco. He wasn't sure he'd witnessed it much in the past.

"I knew what I was doing." It was said quietly enough that Harry reflexively leaned towards him.

Harry felt his stomach turn over but wouldn't let it affect him. The mantra of his relationship with Draco was 'don't get your hopes up', and he wasn't about to break it now.

"Did you?"

Draco nodded in response, and Harry continued, "Then why did you feel the need to get us both drunk to do it?"

"Oh, I don't know, Harry." The sarcastic, defensive tone was back full force. "You're only the straightest man I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. You've never even glanced at another bloke."

That made Harry take pause.

"So... wait, hold on." He tried to organize his thoughts, but they were coming in jumbled. He was, on the one hand, ecstatic that Draco had admitted to wanting him, at least the previous night. His heart and cock had leapt at the admission, but sank once more as he'd continued on.

"You thought I wouldn't want to, so you got me drunk?"

Draco's eyes widened in unease. "What? No, I – "

"That's not on." Harry frowned and, without thinking, said, "Doesn't that border on rape, or something?" Harry knew he was being dramatic, but it wasn't sitting right with him. He suddenly felt as though Draco had taken advantage of him, no matter how vehemently he'd denied it to the drunk blonde of the night before. He hadn't been privy to all the details then. This hadn't been some spontaneous drunken adventure on Draco's part. Not even the coming to fruition of latent desires.

He'd planned it?

"Fuck, Harry, no!" His nauseous demeanour had returned, as his panicked eyes sought Harry's. "How can you say that?"

"Well... What am I supposed to think?" Seeing Draco to distressed made him feel better. Harry knew him well enough to know that, if he was being Slytherin about something, he would do it properly. He'd maintain his cool.

"You..." Draco took several deep breaths, gaining enough control to speak. "It wasn't planned like you're thinking. I didn't go out with the intention of," he pulled a face, "seducing you against your will." He reached a hand out to Harry but pulled it back before it could make contact. "It was in the corner of my mind, I suppose. I promise I wasn't..." He rubbed at an eyebrow.

Harry stood in silence, watching him. He understood. He was a man, too. He understood the way, sometimes, plans formed against your control. Things just 'happened' to work out to your advantage. He knew there was no malice behind it.

But it did call into question Draco's feelings for him. At first, he'd believed that Draco really wanted him. Now, however, it seemed more likely that he was a conquest. Something to lust after, but only temporarily. A challenge.

He couldn't be that. Not to Draco, at any rate.

Harry heaved a sigh and walked the few feet over to the breakfast table. "So what do we do now?"

Draco stayed where he was standing by the counter and didn't answer.

"Draco. What do we do?" He looked over to him and found the blonde near tears.

"Harry, you don't get it. I wasn't trying to hurt you. I just wanted to know if you..." He sighed and pulled himself together. "If you felt anything for me. Sometimes, it seems like you do. I knew you would never say anything. I was trying to avoid the exact conversation we're having right now."

Harry couldn't help it. He smiled his amusement. A breath escaped his nose as he held his laugh.

"This isn't funny," Draco whined, in his perfected Malfoy tone.

"No I know but you said..." he chuckled again, "This is just balls up."

"Really?" he sneered.

"Listen. You wanted to know if I felt anything for you?"

Draco's eyes shifted, caught off guard by Harry's opening. "Yes."

"Why didn't you just ask?" Harry ploughed on ahead because he could change his mind, "Of course I like you. You're my best friend. You're... good looking. You said yourself you sometimes think I do." It was more difficult than he'd assumed it would be. He was unsure if it was because this was Draco, or because Draco was man.

Draco, who was currently sporting a smug smile. Beneath the attitude, Harry could see genuine happiness.

"Do you like me, though?"

"Harry, I've just admitted to getting us drunk so I could snog you." He spoke through his smile.

"Not the most reassuring thing I've ever heard, though." Harry was trying to quash down his hopes, reminding himself that actual feelings had yet to be acknowledged.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Then yes, Harry. I like you."

Heat coursed through his body, even at the offhanded way Draco had said it. As though it was just a fact.

"Well then." Harry cleared his throat. They sat and stood in silence while the information was processed.

"I repeat, what do we do now?"

OOOoooOOO

Christ. Talk about your awkward conversations. Anyway, it's out of the way now! Only good can come from this, right?

You should all worship me for getting this chapter out (unless you hate it, I suppose) given the week I've had. Please let me know what you thought!


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: I should probably stop calling attention to how quickly I'm updating (because all that does is remind you that I'm normally crap) but I'm just so excited. It's so much fun to write right now. Thank you all for reviewing! Although, I hate when I want to reply and you haven't signed in, so please get on that! Especially if you have a question or something. I don't like answering personal reviews in the author's notes, so I try to keep it minimal.

OOOoooOOO

Harry lay in bed that night, turning the day over and over in his head.

After their mutual confessions, they'd gone about making breakfast, and had a quick chat. Harry had restated his wish that they take things slowly, something Draco had reluctantly agreed to. It was for the best, though. He remembered only too clearly what had gone wrong when they were younger, and he would put his everything into not repeating the same mistake.

Then, just before Harry had left for the afternoon, Draco had asked him to dinner the following evening.

A smile cracked Harry's face wide as he remembered the hesitation in his voice. He'd seemed so vulnerable, something Draco rarely displayed. Of course, he'd agreed immediately. His embarrassment over his eager 'yes' had diminished once he'd seen Draco's happiness.

He refused to stress about their upcoming date. Never mind that it would be their first real date; he would act normally, if not a little flirty. But that was fairly normal for them anyway. Frankly, he didn't think anything would change. There had been very little sexual tension earlier, even after their conversation.

He knew they had chemistry, but he wasn't sure how to go about opening that door.

Again, he was unsure if it was because Draco was a man, or because they were so close already.

Although, he'd never really considered him to be a man – he was just Draco. That, he thought, probably accounted for his near constant crush on the other. Gender was a non-issue between them.

But how, then, was he to act on the date? He'd never been on a date with a friend before.

He lay, pondering, before snapping himself from thought. Now was not the time to overanalyze. Harry was, by nature, a planner. He knew it wasn't coming in handy in this particular situation. One couldn't prepare for the unknown.

But he couldn't help the excitement that was making his leg bounce against the mattress.

A giggle burst from his lips, unhindered. He turned onto his stomach, ignoring his persistent erection, and committed to the idea of sleep.

It didn't come for several more hours.

OOOoooOOO

For the second time that week, Harry found himself anxiously pulling clothes out of his closet. It was probably time that he invest in some properly nice trousers. His were mostly faded or worn at the bottom, and he couldn't wear those on his date with Draco.

Ron was about his size, but the chance of him having nice trousers were lower still.

It didn't help that Draco hadn't told him where they were going. Probably some nice Italian place, based on the blonde's previous first dates. He tended to rotate through three upscale places, none of which Harry would be comfortable attending in jeans.

"Bloody buggering fuck!" He threw another pair of thread bare trousers to the floor. If only he'd paid attention when Sirius had taught him mending charms.

May as well give it a go, though. He had enough pairs that he could practice on, after all.

He picked up another pair of black dress pants and aimed his wand without faltering.

"Resarcio." A flick of his wand. A poof of white powder. And his trousers were ruined.

Next pair.

"Resarcio."

A few minutes later, Ron found him surrounded with ripped, newly coloured, and burnt trousers.

"Hi," he said, entering the room cautiously.

"Ron! Mate!" He gripped at the redhead's shirt desperately. "Do you know how to mend trousers?" He all but shouted the question, catching him very off guard.

"Merlin, calm down. I can help, okay?" He patted his friend's back and swallowed nervously. "What do you need repaired?"

"Trousers. Any of them. I just need a pair of trousers."

"Resarcio." The material mended at the seam, and loose threads were just a memory.

"How...!" Harry exclaimed in envious disbelief. "No, whatever. Thanks." He pushed him back out the bedroom door, not caring to ask what he'd originally come in for. Now was not the time.

He wasn't running late yet, as he'd anticipated the scramble, but he couldn't afford another setback. He had to look as perfect as he knew Draco would.

He chose the least colourful shirt he could – a deep grey, as Draco had told him, in his infinite fashion wisdom, that bright colours were out at the moment.

Just as Harry was brushing his teeth for an optimistic second time, the floo chimed.

He heard Ron let Draco through, a short exchange, and then a laugh.

"Harry! Your date's here!"

He squeezed his eyes in frustration. Why did Draco have to tell him that? Or was he just being Ron and having a laugh?

"Coming!" He spit in the sink and smiled cheekily at his reflection.

He ran through his mental checklist. Shaved: Check. Hair Styled: Check. Pre-Date Wank: Double Check. Shirt tucked in: Check.

Peeking out of the lavatory, he was able to spot Draco, who was enjoying small talk with Ron. He was dressed much the same as Harry, to his relief. Although, he had to concede, Draco managed to look much better in his light blue button down and black trousers. Which may have actually been a dark grey.

As Draco gestured, his right hand came into Harry's line of sight. It held a small package, wrapped in red paper, and a silver bow. He'd brought a present!

Not one to stand on ceremony, Harry leapt from the washroom and entered their conversation quite abruptly.

"You brought me something?" He grinned at the blonde, and was suddenly very glad to have already gotten his question out. Draco was breathtaking up close. He'd styled his hair normally, but it seemed softer somehow, almost silk-like. His skin was luminescent and his eyes bright. Never mind the fit of his clothing or the smile lighting up his face.

Recovering, Harry quickly swept him over for glamours, but came away with nothing. Damn.

"I did." Draco smiled at him and held out his hand. It took Harry a moment to remember the gift. He grabbed it and shook it like an overexcited child, but nothing seemed to move inside. He could feel the definite weight of the contents, and concluded it must be cloth.

"Can I..." he gestured to the wrapping, a question in his voice.

Draco glanced quickly at Ron and hesitated.

The redhead pulled a face. "Oh, Merlin." He turned and walked to his bedroom, murmuring something along the lines of, "For fuck's sake."

Harry's excited grin returned full force, and he heard Draco's exhale of amusement as he ripped viciously into the package.

It was almost immediately clear what the gift was, as his hand closed around a material so soft and cottony that it could only be one thing.

"You got me pants?" They were the same brand of boxer briefs that he always stole from Draco. He knew his facial expression was stuck between amusement and confusion, and frankly, he couldn't choose between the two.

He'd expected something simple. Maybe chocolates.

This was so much better.

"Do you like them?" There was none of the previous day's uncertainty in Draco's tone.

"I love them, thanks," Harry laughed, and pulled Draco's body to his in a hug. In all honesty, his intentions for the hug weren't entirely pure, but who gave a flying rat's arse? Nobody would be able to resist the lean, muscular tower of man that stood before him.

It was moments like this that made his Pre-Date Wank self-explanatory.

His double-crossing brain suddenly produced an image of Draco wearing nothing but the briefs with which he'd just been presented. The lean muscles he knew lay underneath his fancy clothes. The tight, high arse stretching the soft material. Draco looking up at him from beneath eyelashes. His spent cock gave a twitch, and he pulled away from the hug.

"Ready to go?" Draco smiled his happy smile and Harry fell slightly more in lust with the man.

"Sure. Where are we off to?" He smoothed his shirt over his abdomen, suddenly questioning his decision to tuck it in. How would he hide the already anticipated erection?

"Dinner first. But that's a surprise. And then another surprise..." He looked thoughtful. "So I guess what I'm saying it: you'll see. Come on, let's go."

OOOoooOOO

Harry's prediction of Italian couldn't have been further from the mark.

The suspicion had began when they hailed a cab. They obviously weren't headed anywhere Wizarding. They'd been halfway there already by the time Harry had guessed correctly. They were headed to his favourite pub, which happened to be on the other side of London. He didn't make it very often, not having the patience to travel by muggle means.

His heart swelled slightly in his chest, and he wanted to laugh his joy. Draco wasn't taking him to the regular first date venues. He'd actually put some thought in. And, apparently, dressed up to go to a pub. Very un-Draco-like.

Of course, Harry didn't know what the second surprise was. They could be headed for the opera, for all he knew. Although, Harry hoped they weren't.

They finally pulled up and Harry turned to grin widely at Draco.

"I knew it!"

"Is this alright? Or would you prefer something fancier?" Again, Draco seemed to have reigned in his nerves, because the question came across as just that – a question.

"This is perfect. Thanks, love."

Draco paid the cab driver before Harry could even reach for his wallet, and they stepped out.

Harry inhaled the savoury scent of grease and fat, and nearly moaned. Neither of them ate so poorly on a regular basis, but it was well known amongst their friends that it was a mutual weakness.

"I'm almost more excited for the food than the company." Harry cocked an eyebrow teasingly and laughed when Draco replied, "Goes without saying."

They were quickly seated at a booth, as per Draco's request, and placed their orders: two fish and chips.

A beer was placed in front of each of them and Harry sniffed at his questioningly.

"Having trouble?" Easy for Draco to say. He was used to muggle beer, drinking it whenever he went out. It was his second drink of choice, after tequila. Harry, on the other hand, had sipped it once, spit it out, and proceeded to never touch the stuff again.

"Just because my taste buds aren't as dead as yours..." He sniffed, closer this time, and wrinkled his nose at the assault.

Draco laughed. "Just try it. Whatever you had before was probably shite. This," he gestured grandly to the pint, "is a proper lager."

He raised a skeptical eyebrow, but lifted the glass to his mouth. He made a special effort to not breathe through his nose, lest he get another unpleasant whiff. To his surprise, his first sip wasn't altogether horrible.

Granted, it stung his taste buds in a way he wasn't used to, but it was no worse than any other alcoholic drink.

He didn't even shudder afterwards.

"Well?" Draco's eyebrow was arched, expectantly.

He shrugged. "Not too bad, I suppose."

The blonde leaned back in his seat with a satisfied grin.

The meal passed much faster than Harry would have liked. Unfortunately, the service at the pub was spectacular, and they were both hungry enough that, when their food arrived, there was little conversation.

Harry was very pleased to note that they each only had two drinks the entire time. Perhaps Draco had grown some bollocks after all.

The bill came shortly after the last of their plates had been cleared, and Harry reached for it automatically. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been treated to a meal, and it had become reflexive.

It was, then, to his surprise that Draco grabbed it first.

His confused frown suddenly turned to a smile. "You don't have to. I've got it." Despite his words, his stomach turned over. It was stupid, he knew, because the inviter usually paid for the invitee, but it seemed out of place in their relationship. Not that it mattered when they both had money, but it was the thought.

"No, really." Harry reached for his money pouch then paused.

Draco smirked at his hesitation. "Just realize you don't have any muggle money, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Good." He laid down the appropriate bills, which took a moment to figure. Harry noticed he'd left a large tip. That was always something Draco did when he wanted to impress his date, or so he'd told him in the past. Inexplicably, it made Harry want to giggle like a fourth year Hufflepuff.

Luckily, he restrained himself, and settled for a fond smile.

Draco pulled them out of the pub and set about hailing a cab.

"So where are we off to now?" Harry asked, never forgetting the Slytherin's earlier promise.

"It's a surprise. You'll see soon enough. Now stop bouncing and get in the cab."

OOOoooOOO

I was going to put their entire date in one chapter, but then it would be about twice the length of a normal one, and wouldn't be out until at least next weekend. So I figure we'll stick with what works. Another week, another chapter, yeah?


	34. Chapter 34

A/N: Okay sorry this didn't come last week, but I've had stuff. Yes. Stuff :) So anyway, here's part 2 of the date.

By the way, has everybody seen the trailer for HP7? I hate to practically advertise, but go watch it! I personally think it looks amazing!

OOOoooOOO

They had been in the cab for a quarter hour, and as far as Harry could tell, they were simply making their way to Draco's flat. If he knew London, which he did, they were only a couple blocks away when the driver pulled over and turned for payment.

"Where are we?"

"You'll see." Draco wore a smirk, which always made his stomach flip. More so, now that it was directed only at him.

They walked down the busy London street and took a turn down a slightly quieter one. Without warning, Harry found his arm grabbed and his body pulled into a nearby doorway. Just before they entered the building, he managed to catch a glimpse of the sign.

"Thunderballs?" he asked nervously. "What's that?" His mind jumped inexplicably to a strip club they'd visited on his twentieth birthday. But Draco wouldn't take him someplace like that, even if he'd enjoyed it at the time.

Not on their first date.

Right?

His fears were not altogether allayed when they walked into what appeared to be a coat check room, and he could hear pounding music and see black light coming from the main room.

He hesitated. "Draco?"

"Yes?" He was still smirking.

"We're not..." His eyes darted towards the exit. "I don't think this is really..."

A flicker of doubt entered Draco's eyes for the first time all evening. He was obviously sensing the shifting mood.

"I thought you'd never been before?" He frowned, questioningly.

Harry's brow creased in confusion. "What are you talking about? We went together."

"What are you talking about?" He threw Harry's own phrase back at him. "I've only been once and that was about three weeks ago."

Harry considered that perhaps his assumption had been wrong.

"Oh."

Draco was still frowning.

"If you'd rather not..." He turned towards the door and gestured. "I can think of something else for us to do."

"No! No, it's okay." He peered curiously around the doorframe, feeling more secure that he wouldn't come face to face with a gigantic pair of breasts. Or, come to that, a cock.

They kicked off their shoes, Harry following Draco's strange example, and walked into the darkened room.

Lasers flashed intrusively against disco balls, and the pounding music was suddenly broken by a loud crash. Followed by another. Against the far wall, he could see lanes, dully lit and tall, thin objects at the wall. People were rolling balls down the lanes and knocking the pins over.

In an embarrassing flood of understanding, Harry knew where they were. Of course.

Muggle studies had made bowling out to be a very boring leisure activity, for the terminally old. But then, what were all the children and couples doing there?

At least, Harry reasoned, it did seem a place for dates. Much more so than a strip club.

He stood back while Draco paid, and they made their way to their lane. Harry slipped the provided shoes on and grimaced. Even he, who had little to no fashion sense, knew he was committing a crime just being in proximity to the things.

When he voiced these concerns to Draco, he shrugged back.

"I'm told it's part of the charm. At least we don't have to keep them."

The electronic scoreboard flashed on, with Draco's name blinking insistently.

"I guess you're first. Good thing." Harry sat back to watch his date meander up to a ball carousel and slide his fingers smoothly into the holes.

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You look mighty comfortable with that. You sure you've only been once before?"

Draco laughed. "I've been picking things up since I was seven weeks old. The tricky bit is still to come."

Harry couldn't quite see what would be so difficult. He watched as the neighbouring muggles drew back and released the balls gracefully. They thundered down the lane and smashed the formation of pins down. Simple.

Aim, windup, release.

And so, it was to his great hilarity, that Draco stumbled up to the lane, stepped back awkwardly, and released the ball into a slow roll, right into the gutter.

Harry was still laughing when Draco skulked back, having thrown another ball to the same result.

"I was better last time."

His dying laughter returned. "Sure, sure. Convenient."

He took his turn next. He'd watched the muggles quite closely, trying to decipher technique. He was pretty sure he had it down.

And so it was that he confidently picked up the ball, hiding his surprise at its weight, and stepped up to the line. He visualized the ball hitting just between the two centre pins, pulled back, and let go.

The ball travelled slower than he'd expected. In fact, not much faster than Draco's had. And it seemed unstable in its course. About halfway down the lane, it suddenly started veering left, and no amount of flamboyant hand waving seemed to redirect it. Harry's hand was halfway to his wand, to aid its journey, when he realized that would defeat the purpose.

His second ball at least stayed on the lane, but only managed to hit the corner pin.

Eye contact was something he tried to avoid, making his way back to his seat. The gloating Slytherin seemed a little too cocky, considering he was losing.

By one point, but the fact remained.

The optimistically termed 'game' continued on in much the same way. Raised eyebrows, taunting jabs, and unrestrained laughter coated the evening. Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun, even with Draco.

It seemed the new dynamic was, this time, in their favour. The sexual tension was finally out in the open, or at least Harry was finally noticing it. They exchanged small smiles, which usually morphed into larger ones with eye contact. On every occasion Harry could excuse, he brushed against the blonde; either changing seats or congratulating him for a decent frame.

In his seventh frame, Harry got a spare. Draco had needed to explain the meaning behind it, and had hugged him tightly in, what Harry saw to be, reward.

The smile hadn't left his face since.

The final scores read : Draco 43, Harry 39.

Having observed the muggles, Harry knew that those were not terribly impressive scores.

"Don't worry," Draco said cockily, as they returned to the coat room, "I'm sure you'll do better next time."

He scoffed. "You only beat me by four pins, mate. I don't think you get bragging rights just yet."

As Draco opened the door to the outside for Harry, his smile faded.

"It's raining."

"How perceptive." Harry poked his head out. It really was raining quite heavily. They wouldn't be able to apparate, given the muggle neighbourhood, and waiting for a cab would get them wet anyway.

Plus, Harry admitted, he'd always wanted to kiss in the rain. His first serious girlfriend had put the idea in his head, and he'd never quite been able to rid himself of it.

Now, Draco just had to forget he was a wizard for long enough for them to get wet.

He grabbed the blonde's hand, with what he hoped was a sultry grin, and dragged him outside.

A gasp erupted from Draco. "Harry! We're getting wet!"

"So? We can just dry off when we get to your place."

The thought seemed to shut Draco up for a moment, but he soon remembered his agony.

"But my hair! I spent so long getting it to lie like this!" He didn't seem to mind that he'd just admitted the effort he'd put into their date. Harry appreciated it, nonetheless.

"You're just going to shower and go to bed. What does it matter?" The heavy drops were already causing Draco's blue shirt to cling to his upper body pleasingly. He knew his own shirt would be the same. Perfect.

"Hmph. I have a social life, you know."

"Aren't I mostly your social life?" Harry laughed.

"Hey! And Blaise..." They were well and thoroughly soaked now. Harry couldn't help admiring the outline of the blonde's hard upper body, even as the mention of Blaise caught his attention.

"So are you and Blaise still..." He tried to sound casual, but it came out as insecure. That was, quite frankly, a more accurate representation of his feelings anyway.

To his relief, Draco shot him a strange look. "I wouldn't have asked you out if Blaise and I were still together. And haven't we already talked about this?"

"You have a tendency to change your mind, when he's involved." He bit his cheek. Shut up. He may as well advertise his spite on his forehead.

"I'm finished with him, Harry. I have been for awhile." He ran a hand through his soaked hair, ruffling it slightly, and smiled. "And besides. You have a much nicer arse."

Harry scoffed. "Did you just realize that?"

"Of course not." They were still about a block from Draco's, and neither was rushing; their walk had slowed to a meander. Harry didn't know what would happen once he got there, but he knew he wasn't staying the night. A small part of him still wanted to take things slowly. "It just belonged to Sophie before now."

The mention of his ex didn't even faze him. "It doesn't anymore." He swallowed and tried to keep down the blush. It was like an out of body experience, speaking like this to Draco. A good out of body experience, mind. They did speak to each other sexually, but it had always been a joke. Or, at least, Harry had interpreted it that way. They kidded around all the time, but neither was laughing at the moment.

"Thank Merlin for that." Draco let go of his hand and caressed his side. They had stopped walking altogether, and their bodies were close. Harry looked up at him. His face glowed. Draco wasn't smiling but he was slightly flushed and his eyes were bright, even through the rain.

His other hand rose, his thumb brushing Harry's cheek before sliding to cup his neck. They were so close. Harry had all but forgotten his goal to kiss in the rain. The allure was now because of the company.

Their lips were inches apart, eyes half-lidded. Draco's tongue darted out to lick his lips, before clearing his throat.

"Can I kiss you?"

Harry breathed out sharply, both in amusement and anticipation. "Yes," he managed to whisper. He waited for Draco to lean in, and was rewarded with a gentle touch of lips.

His stomach burned and his heart beat wildly, but he somehow managed to remain standing. This was so much better than drunken groping. He finally understood what Remus meant. It really was better with someone you cared about.

His own hands had somehow found their way to Draco's back, and he pulled them closer.

Rain pattered against them, and it only made one difference to Harry which was that he could feel Draco's taut nipples against his chest.

Their lips parted together, and Draco took Harry's bottom lip between his own, nibbling and sucking gently. It felt new and exciting, something Harry would never have anticipated. Kissing wasn't new, and neither was Draco's company. But somehow, the two together...

He was very well aware of his already hard cock. The burning in his stomach had quickly travelled downward, and even before a tongue had been introduced, Harry was embarrassingly rigid.

He was torn between the desire to press against Draco and the desire to keep things relatively clean. In the end, a honking car reminded him of where they were: in the middle of a crowded London street. And while it was late enough that children wouldn't be wandering around, he knew that not everyone was friendly towards gays.

Reluctantly, he broke away from Draco. They both took a deep breath that reflected their arousal. They hadn't been kissing long enough to need the air.

"We should probably keep going," Harry said quietly. Draco's lips were slightly swollen, and his eyes were dark with arousal. It seemed he'd had much the same experience.

Draco murmured his consent and grasped his hand once more.

They were both smiling as they walked the short distance. It didn't take long to arrive at his flat, and as Draco fumbled with the keys, Harry made his resolution to not go in. If the kiss had been any indication, neither of them would have the presence of mind to stop if things went too far. Harry wasn't ready to sleep with his best friend, just quiet yet. He knew he was trying to protect his feelings, but truth be told, he was also nervous.

He had never had sex with a man, and he wasn't altogether confident about the idea. Draco had slept with his fair share and surely knew several things that he didn't. He didn't want to embarrass himself.

So when Draco finally got the door open, Harry bade him goodbye.

"You sure you don't want a drink or anything?" His face had fallen.

"No, I'm just going to go to bed. Feels more like a real date if I leave you at the door." He smiled.

Draco heaved a sigh. "I suppose so."

"But I had a really good time." Harry looked to the floor, suddenly feeling awkward. "Thanks for everything. And I'll pay next time, yeah?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I expect nothing less." He leaned in quickly, so Harry didn't have time to back away, and kissed him.

It was less tentative, but just as sweet as the first had been.

Thankfully, he didn't linger long and Harry was able to retain his thoughts of leaving. They pulled apart and Harry smiled.

"See you tomorrow?"

"Definitely."

OOOoooOOO

Just so we all remember – no Harry hasn't actually slept with a man. When they were together, there was definite 'frottage' but no penetration whatsoever.

Anyway, thanks for reading, and please leave a review, letting me know what you thought.


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: Okay I know it's been awhile, but I've been very productive in my absence. Productive in real life, I mean, not in terms of writing. Sorry.

OOOoooOOO

Harry fidgeted as he waited in front of his floo. He'd just rung Sirius and Remus, unable to contain his excitement about the night before.

He was, in truth, waiting to speak to Remus. He'd never told Sirius about his and Draco's fling in Hogwarts, and just knew that he'd latch onto it as an opportunity to tease him. Remus, on the other hand, had figured it out for himself. It hadn't taken too many of Draco's visits to their house for Remus to pull Harry aside, and inquire about the tension. It hadn't taken long for the whole story to come pouring from Harry's mouth.

Sirius' face appearing in the fire interrupted his train of thought.

"Harry!" His face was flushed and his breathing hard, but he looked quite happy to see his godson.

"Sorry, did I interrupt something?" A tiny suggestion of what that something might be made Harry a little uncomfortable.

"Uh..." his eyes darted, "No, no, nothing."

Harry's fears confirmed, he realized he'd just caught his godfathers mid-coitus again. Why the hell they answered their floo during sex was beyond him.

At least he'd called first.

"Merlin, Sirius. Call me back later, will you?" His face must have shown his distaste for the situation.

A spark came into Sirius' eye as he tried not to laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about, but will do. Give us... er, give 'me' a half hour, will you?" And his face was gone.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Remus and Sirius had said vows in front of their friends a little over four years ago, and they were still inseparable. He didn't quite appreciate the knowledge that they were getting laid more often than he.

It was at that moment that Ron stumbled out of his room. It was rare that the redhead slept later than Harry.

"What were you up to last night?"

Ron looked up, surprised. "What are you doing up?"

Harry smirked. He must have been hungover. "It's quite late, Ron."

He frowned and snatched his wand from the kitchen table. "Tempus." The floating numbers told the room it was a quarter to eight. On a Saturday morning.

Harry's brow creased. How odd. He'd been awake for at least an hour. Perhaps it had been his excitement over the night before...

"Anyway," Ron said, as though reading his mind, "How was your date?"

Harry felt a dreamy smile cross his face, and take up residence. "It wasn't a date."

He snorted. "Fine, fine," he rolled his eyes and gave Harry the distinct impression of not believing him. "How was your 'night out' with your oh-so handsome best friend, who happened to show up looking immaculate and holding a gift?"

The faraway smile parted, and allowed a very unmanly giggle to pass. Harry immediately closed his lips in protest. "It was alright, I guess." He shrugged but once again got the feeling that Ron had formed his own opinions.

They shared the duty of putting together a traditional English breakfast and gorged themselves. When the floo later rang for Harry, Ron made a quick escape.

It wasn't until later that he realized Ron had never answered him when he'd asked where he'd been the night before.

OOOoooOOO

"Harry!"

He was immediately enveloped in a hug, before he even saw the interior of the house.

"Pdfft!" He tried to cry, but found his face muffled in a shoulder.

"What was that, my little Buck?"

Of course, Sirius could speak properly. He was the taller of the two.

Harry finally wrestled himself from his godfather's grasp and smiled. "Hello."

"Harry!" his face turned stern so quickly that Harry had trouble registering it. "Don't you ever bloody go that long without coming to see me. If not for floo, I wouldn't have seen your face in weeks! Skipping our dinner...!" He threw his hands up in a decent imitation of Molly Weasley. "Poor Remus is at the end of his tether!"

Harry rolled his eyes at Padfoot's antics. He could be slightly dramatic when he chose to be.

"Speaking of Remus, where is – "

"What?" cried Sirius. "That's all you can say? After weeks and weeks of no contact?"

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes again, and wondered for a moment how he'd turned out to be so normal.

He pushed Sirius aside and entered the house without invitation.

"Remus?" he called. "Your husband's getting to be too much."

The greying man appeared at the top of the stairs, apparently already on his way down.

"So I hear. Sorry about that, but he's missed you. Always going on about it... Why he doesn't call you himself, I'm not sure."

"Because!" Sirius spluttered from behind Harry, "He should 'want' to see me!"

"I think it's his time of the month. Excuse him." Remus ushered Harry into the kitchen. "Would you like tea? I'm afraid we've run out of milk, but..."

"No, that's fine," Harry brushed off the offer. "I thought I'd make us lunch, in apology for missing supper the other night."

Remus' face lit up. "How thoughtful of you."

Harry glanced at Sirius, who had closed the door and was looking skeptical. It had been awhile since Harry had cooked them anything, and he hadn't exactly been renowned for his culinary successes, as a younger man.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked warily.

Harry held up the shopping bag that had gone unnoticed until that moment. "I wanted to try out this Asian Stir-fry.

Sirius, who was no chef himself, glanced wearily into his tidy kitchen. "You promise to clean up?"

OOOoooOOO

As it turned out, Harry's cooking skills had improved since the last time Remus had tried one of his creations. Or perhaps it was the point that he had actually followed a recipe this time.

Either way, he and Sirius were quite pleased with the result, even offering to clean the kitchen in his stead.

It wasn't until Sirius was finishing the quick spells in the kitchen that Harry turned to him and quietly said, "Do you think you could get him out of the house for a bit?"

Remus frowned but didn't question it.

"Padfoot!" he called from the living room, where he and Harry were enjoying a cup of tea.

"Yeah?" came the answering cry, accompanied by a crash from the kitchen, and a wince from Remus.

"Could you pop out for some milk? I hate my tea black."

Sirius' head popped around the corner.

"No you don't."

"Yes I do."

"No you don't. You only take a splash. And sometimes you prefer black." There was a short pause as Sirius thought over what he'd said. He smirked. "As well you should."

Remus crinkled his face pathetically. "But I want milk." He knew it was childish, but his husband had always been a sucker for his helplessness – even at Hogwarts.

Padfoot rolled his eyes but smiled and slid his shoes on. "From the muggle market, right?"

He tried to smile endearingly. "It's my favourite."

Sirius was still smiling when he opened the door. "You disgust me. See you, Harry." With a wave, he was gone.

Turning back to Harry, he saw a look of amused despair.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"That was pathetic. I can't believe you two." He chuckled, dropping his face to his hands.

He was glad that Harry had never had a problem with the two of them getting together. He'd always known that, in theory, he wouldn't mind, but Remus had always been proud of how easily they had all adjusted, and how happy for them Harry seemed. Especially given his recent relationship problems.

"So what is this all about?" he prompted, when Harry didn't start. He watched as a smile grew uncontrollably on his face.

Harry shifted in his seat, suddenly seeming full of energy. "Draco and I went on a date last night." His voice was full of barely contained excitement.

It took Remus' brain a moment to process. "A date? Together?"

"Yep."

He blinked.

"And I'll assume, by your general enthusiasm, that it went well?"

If he hadn't thought it to be impossible, Remus would have sworn that Harry's smile grew.

"So well. It was wonderful, Remus. It felt like a proper date. He paid, he chose where we went..."

Remus was shocked. He would have expected Harry to stumble over the references to 'he'. After all, Harry had always denied suggestions that he might be gay. He'd always brushed off the rare mention of his tryst with Draco as 'experimentation'. And yet here he was, happily proclaiming his date with a man.

Not that Remus was about to mention any of that.

"... And after dinner we went bowling. Bowling, Remus!"

"Mm," he replied, trying to sound enthusiastic.

Evidently, he hadn't quite succeeded, as Harry paused in his ramblings.

"What?"

Remus raised his eyebrows. "Yes?"

"You sound thoughtful. That's not good." Harry had adopted a suspicious look. He knew Remus too well.

"No, I'm quite happy that you're so excited. I just think that..." he stopped, trying to work through his thoughts. "Have you thought this through?"

A defensive edge took Harry. "What do you mean?"

Remus took a reluctant breath. He didn't mean to discourage a blossoming relationship, but it seemed that Harry had jumped in feet first. A wonderful trait he'd inherited from James and Sirius.

"He's your best friend. It would devastate you if things didn't work out. Have you considered that what happened last time could very well happen again? You were broken when he started dating after you had been together. I saw the way you threw yourself into relationship after relationship. There were no happy endings." He frowned at the memory, and looked to Harry.

"It won't be like that this time." Harry's jaw was set.

"How can you be sure?"

"We're..." He floundered for the words. "We've matured. We know what we want now."

"Harry," Remus said gently, just above a whisper. "That may apply to you, but can you be sure it does to him, as well?"

"Bloody hell, Remus!" He stood up angrily, yanking a hand threw his hair. "What are you doing? I was happy about this! What are you trying to accomplish?"

"I'm trying to make you think this through! I don't want you to be crushed again, when it doesn't turn out the way you'd hoped!"

"So nice of you to be concerned." There was a sneer in Harry's tone, but he was no longer shouting.

"Don't be angry. I'm sorry. I don't mean to upset you – I just want to make sure you're looking at things objectively. I saw how happy you were, and sometimes that can blind us."

"You were this happy with Sirius. How's that different?"

"It's... it's not, Harry. We were just lucky."

"So I could be lucky! Who's to say this might not give me everything!"

"But you've tried before." Remus wondered what he was doing. Why he was fighting so vehemently against the idea. He didn't need to wonder long, though. It was because he saw pain and disappointment in Harry's future.

"We're older now, things should be okay." Harry sounded very much as though he were trying to convince himself.

It was a valid consideration. "That may very well be. But please, be careful. Don't give your heart away too quickly."

"You did."

Remus tensed. "I suffered through loneliness for years before Sirius ever looked at me that way." His face grew hot at the admission, but it was important that Harry heard this. "I don't want you to waste years wanting something that Draco's not ready to give."

Harry's throat worked visibly as he tried to swallow. Then, suddenly, he stood.

"I'll see you later. Tell Sirius I said bye." He turned on the spot and disapparated, with little ceremony.

Remus brought a hand to massage the bridge of his nose. He really wished he'd not said that last to Harry: exposed himself. Even Sirius didn't know how badly he'd wanted him, and for how long.

In fact, while he was wishing for things, he wished he hadn't even started that chain of thought in Harry. He didn't know how the younger man would react – whether he would take it to heart and think on it, or whether he would see it as an opportunity for rebellion – another unfortunate trait he seemed to have inherited from Sirius.

He was still nursing a headache when Sirius popped in the front door, holding a carton of milk.

"I'm home, Honey Bunch!"

Remus almost smiled at the ridiculous endearment.

He turned the corner. "Hey, where's Harry?"

OOOoooOOO

There you have it. Your slightly delayed chapter. Sorry about those few weeks, there. You know, busy, busy. But I have slightly more time for the next few weeks (at which point, I'll be moving cross-continent, and restarting school... soooo we'll see about time management when the time comes). I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know in a review : )


	36. Chapter 36

A/N : Excuse is as follows : I've moved to a new continent (!) and have visited seven countries in the past 4 months. Still in school, working, dealing with complications in my love life... So please don't hate me. This is the first time I've had a free weekend since August :)

OOOoooOOO

Harry closed the door to his bedroom and sat on his bed with a sulk.

It wasn't that he was angry with Remus. He had every right to express his concerns about Harry's personal life and happiness – he always had. But he was frustrated. Frustrated because Remus had managed to bring up the points that Harry was worried about. Having the ever logical man express the same concerns made them more real. They were legitimate, all of a sudden.

He threw his pillow against the wall and it made a loud thud. He hoped Ron wasn't at home, or he'd be getting a confused visit.

What if Remus was right? What if Draco wasn't ready for the kind of relationship he wanted. Harry wasn't one to enter relationships lightly.

Well, he considered, that wasn't altogether accurate. He'd had a couple flings after Hogwarts that had amounted to nothing, and that had been fine. Even the one night stands hadn't been a problem. But it was different with Draco and it always had been.

He was his first real love, and he'd been his best friend for as long as he could remember. That wasn't something he could, or would, throw away for the sake of a fuck.

But, as he had convinced himself before, Draco must have understood that. He would have known better than to seduce Harry for something he wasn't sure of. For something that wasn't serious. He was sure the blonde valued their friendship more than that.

Draco had even told him that he had feelings for him. He wouldn't have said so if it weren't true. Especially given the horribly awkward nature of the conversation.

It was with this certainty that Harry stood from his bed and opened his bedroom door.

"Ron?" he hollered into the seemingly empty flat. No answer.

He grabbed a scrap of paper and penned a note.

Ron,

Gone for the night. See you tomorrow.

Harry

Good. Succinct and no mention of Draco. Not that Ron wouldn't make the assumption anyway. He'd need to have that conversation with his friend in the eventual future, but probably better to give the relationship a go first.

Plus, he really didn't want to see the smug, knowing look on Ron's face when he found out he had been right. Yes, that could definitely wait.

He dropped the note to the kitchen table, ran a hand through his hair once, and apparated to Draco's flat.

They did so often, without bothering to call ahead to make sure the other was home, so it came as no great shock to find another empty apartment waiting for him.

Not one to be easily deterred, he grabbed a butterbeer from the fridge and a book from the shelf. He settled into the couch and prepared for a wait.

Over the next several minutes, he began to reconsider his decision to come. They had said they'd see each other today, but what if Draco had forgotten? What if he came home with a date? Or worse. Blaise.

But no, that was ridiculous. A date? At three o'clock in the afternoon? Even Draco couldn't pull in the middle of the afternoon. And he wouldn't – not the day after kissing Harry, of that, he was sure.

As for Blaise... That was still a niggling worry in the back of Harry's mind. As often as Draco told him it was over between them, Blaise still had a history of showing up without warning and being welcomed with open arms.

No. The worrying was ridiculous and wasn't going to solve anything. He just wanted to see Draco, spend some time with him, and maybe...

No!

Frustrated with his own train of thought, Harry snapped the book shut.

He'd left the note for Ron with the intention of staying over at Draco's, but he wasn't going to force it. First things first, he wanted to have a quick chat. Nothing deep or soul searching, just a reassurance that what they were doing wasn't idiotic. That Remus hadn't been right about absolutely everything.

He took a gulp of butterbeer and reopened the book with newfound determination.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long. It wasn't half an hour later that Draco strolled in holding several grocery bags and threw his keys on the counter.

"Hey," Harry said, putting the book to one side and standing up.

Draco turned to look at him with a smile.

"Hello. You feel like helping with dinner?"

"Always. What's on the menu?"

The bags were spilling out onto the counter and there seemed to be enough food to feed the Weasleys over Christmas.

"I went a little crazy. Haven't eaten yet today and I probably should've before I went shopping..." Draco trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck and staring at the mounds of food as though he'd never seen it before, let alone paid for it all.

Harry laughed and began to sort through the bags.

"Alright well, chicken, beans, ground beef, cauliflower..."

"There's no way I'm going to eat all this before it goes bad," Draco said as Harry pulled salmon and pork from the bags.

Harry scoffed. "Please. We're growing men. We'll get through it. We might not have time for much else, but we'll eat it."

They finally decided on salmon teriyaki with steamed green beans and went to work. It wasn't a very demanding dish and they were finished in no time.

"So," Draco said as he dug into the beans, "Feel like going out tonight?"

Harry shrugged. "I'd rather stay in actually. I've been going out a lot recently. I think some quiet time would be good."

A smile spread across Draco's lips before he could stop it.

"Sounds good. We should rent a movie or something, and make some more food."

OOOoooOOO

They were cuddled under the blanket watching some movie from the 40s that Harry was, frankly, not enjoying.

He was sure it was a classic that deserved international recognition and awards and everything but... It was the same old situation with him. Draco was too close and producing too much warmth for him to realistically expect any kind of concentration out of Harry.

"Draco," Harry started, without having a follow up.

After a silence, Draco looked over – a feat, given how closely they were pressed.

"Yes?"

"Are you serious?"

A crease appeared between Draco's brows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you serious about us? Do you actually think it's a good idea."

It was much easier to discuss this, Harry reflected, when he already knew his feelings were reciprocated. When he didn't have to worry about rejection.

Draco sighed as he looked back to the television. He didn't say anything for a long moment, but his eyes were moving out of sync with the events on the screen as though he were thinking very hard.

"I wouldn't have done anything if I weren't serious, Harry. I mean, for Merlin's sake, I didn't do anything for years because I wasn't sure how you felt."

"And because we were both with other people," Harry reminded him with a raised eyebrow.

Draco waved the comment away. "Detail.

Harry snorted. "Not a detail. You wouldn't have left Blaise for me." He hadn't quite meant to make the comment, but there was no taking it back. It was a thought that had skimmed his mind occasionally in the past several years. During his not-altogether-sober moments, usually. But he had wanted to have a calm and coherent conversation. He wasn't sure this was the best way to go about it.

He turned to see Draco shaking his head, with a sad smile. He was looking down at his own hands, which were twisting around the remote. The movie still played in the background.

"I would have. I would have, in an instant, if I had known you wanted me."

Harry said nothing.

"You were a big issue between us, did you know that? He knew how I felt about you and didn't... really like it." Draco's smile grew a little, but his eyes told a different story. "I feel bad for hurting him. I think I was using him a bit, trying to make it work when it obviously wouldn't, because of you."

Harry had known that he was an obstacle in their relationship, because of Blaise's habit of telling him so, but he'd never heard Draco's side of it. He would have left Blaise for him? Could that be true?

"So why now? What changed?"

Draco laughed. "Well there's the obvious dropping of Sophie. The fact that you became achievable for the first time in years. Not that I ever expected..." He shook his head. "I guess I just felt too guilty with Blaise. Once I knew you and Sophie weren't getting on so well, I started thinking about you more often, and I couldn't do that to Blaise. He'd get so upset whenever we broke up. Especially if he thought it was because of you." Draco sighed. "So we broke up once and for all. It gave us both peace of mind, I think. It's easier to hang out as friends without worrying about what the other is up to."

Harry swallowed. He, too, felt bad for Blaise. To always be the one Draco settled for would be a terrible feeling.

"So you're really finished. And I don't have to be jealous when you go out clubbing?" Harry smiled, not altogether kidding.

He smiled back. "You'll be coming with me to the clubs from now on, love," he flicked a strand of hair from Harry's face. "Now that I'm allowed to dance with you the way I like, don't think I'll give that up so easily."

"I wouldn't want you to."

They leaned in the few inches that separated them and kissed gently. There was an undertone of urgency, but they both kept it light. When they broke apart, Harry cuddled even deeper into Draco's arm, nuzzling his face into the blonde's neck.

As far as Harry was concerned, Draco could continue to watch the movie, but he had other things on his mind. Like the overwhelmingly male and fresh scent of his boyfriend.

He tried to be discreet about the fact that he was essentially sniffing the other man, and thought he did a good job of it.

Eventually, instinct won over social propriety and he started alternately sucking, biting and licking his neck. It smelled far too good to contemplate doing otherwise. Draco exhaled one long breath and shifted, but continued to watch the screen.

Harry shifted in response, throwing one leg between Draco's, and turning in a proper straddle. Far easier access from that angle. He felt arms support his back as he leaned forward to continue his ministrations.

He relocated to the dip just above his collarbone. He'd always been attracted to collarbones for some reason. It gave people an air of fragility. And Draco's had always caught his attention.

Draco shivered as he ran his hand down his neck and along his other collarbone. The man put a firm hand on his back to anchor him, and he dragged Harry's leg over, so that he was straddling both of Draco's legs, rather than just one.

Harry stopped and looked down at his boyfriend. He was reminded of one evening they had spent – was it an evening, or just a romp between classes? – in the room of requirements back in their Hogwarts years. He couldn't believe his luck. All that time ago, and he was able to enjoy his friend again.

He smiled and tugged off his shirt.

When he looked back to Draco, he was staring at him with a strange, though not bad, expression.

"What?"

"Just thinking how proud my seventeen year old self would be of me right now," he replied with a chuckle.

Harry leaned down to kiss him. "I was just thinking the same thing."

He stayed the night as planned and, true to their promise, their trousers stayed on.

OOOoooOOO


End file.
